Gold as honour red as blood
by SilverInk.IvoryQuill
Summary: Nat made a promise to Ned and has to deal with Jaime and the War of the Five Kings, bastard children and hidden identities pose a challenge. And then there is the House of SHIELD connected to Peggy Tyrell Baratheon, which is pulling the strings in the background. Winter is coming, powers will manifest. Marvel/GOT fusion, basically everyone is in it.
1. Jaime I

**This story is originally written as a Birthday present for my best friend, so happy birthday again Dearie!**

**It starts quite a time before the books/ Season 1 does, but refers to events described. Also a lot of things are adapted or there are Marvel plot-elements (TV shows and movies inclusing X-Men) woven into it. Also the Marvel names are partly adapted to suit Westerosi fashion.**

**Disclaimer: I neither own GoT nor the MCU nor the X-Men**

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**Harrenhal, 279 AC**

**Jaime**

Harrenhal was loud and bustling, knights and squires, merchants and harlots all going about their business. It was intoxicating, really, in Jaime's opinion and he was getting more and more excited for the tournament that would only really begin the next day. Not that he would show it. He couldn't afford that, not as a Lannister, knighted at the age of 16, the youngest man ever to become a member of the kingsguard. He had a reputation to uphold and a sister to please.

Suddenly, his path was blocked by two people walking in his direction. He frowned, people were supposed to move out of his way! He was the young lion, he deserved that! Whereas those two were… well, the man looked like a knight, but his armour was definitely far from Lannister standard. He might have been about Jaime's age, a dark version of him. Tall, lean, wavy black hair, dark eyes and an annoying smirk on his lips that the kingsguard would have loved to wipe off this bastard's face. He was what the stupid handmaid hens would probably call handsome, for Jaime, he was an open provocation.

The woman, or rather girl, next to him, she couldn't have been more than 14 years old, was nothing like the man. She was short and petite and incredibly beautiful. Admitting that was a weird thing for the knight, as he normally never looked at anyone but Cersei that way. Her hair was fire-red and unbraided, hanging loosely in waves over her shoulders. The moment she looked at him with the green eyes of hers, just a few shades darker than his own, he felt as if the air had been punched out of him, as if she was looking straight into his soul and knew all of his secrets.

Who was she? Maybe the man's lady? Or his whore?

When the man didn't move to the side, she nugged him with her elbow, clearly signalling him not to search trouble with a kingsguard. Smart little thing. They both moved to the side, letting him pass. She curtsied deeply and elegantly and Jaime wasn't quite sure whether she was utterly polite or utterly mocking him.

A few hours later, he saw a quarrel starting not far from him and went over, curious to see what it was about. Some short man was apparently being bullied by three young lads who had snatched his weapon out of his hands and were now shoving and kicking him, all while calling him ugly names. For a moment, he wondered if maybe he should help the man, but before he came to a conclusion, a whirlwind of red brushed past him and jumped in the middle of the quarrel, twisting, kicking and hitting and somehow still making it look like a dance. Jaime was stunned when he realized it was Red (that was what he had started to call the girl from earlier in his mind). Somehow she had gotten a dagger and was now holding it to the throat of one of the boys who was kneeling in front of her. Unfortunatedly, she didn't move quick enough to dodge the blow one of the stupid idiots still wanted to bring to her head, not believing that she would really harm the other boy. Red fell to the ground and now Jaime was really going to move and beat them green and blue - when another woman jumped in. If he was not mistaken, it was Lyanna Stark who was now fighting off the others with a tourney sword. What a sight to be seen, those ladies.

He saw Red getting up, her dress dusty but not too dirty, and curtsying in front of Lady Lyanna who just laughed. Then, the girl ran to the short man, starting to fuss over him, making sure he was okay. When she seemd to be satisfied, she spoke again to the lady before her eyes turned towards Jaime. His breath skipped again as she moved towards him graciously, maybe even a bit predatorously. Interesting, he thought, what does she want from me? He bowed slightly in front of her and when he looked at her again, she was holding the dagger she had used to threatened the boys - wait, was that his dagger?! - out to him.

"I beg your forgiveness Ser Jaime, I meant no harm, but I took the liberty to borrow your dagger," she admitted, her voice firm.

"When did you...?" then he remembered: Just when she had rushed past him, she must have taken it from his belt.

He could have taken off her head for that (well, maybe not her head, he still didn't know who she was after all) and she stood there confidently in front of him, apparently not affraid?! It was outrageous! Still, he couldn't fight the amusement bubbling up inside his chest nor the small genuine smile on his face.

"Thank you for bringing back my property," he remarked dryly.

Red curtsied again and the scrambled of behind the wolf-maiden and the other short man.

The feast in the evening was huge, people dancing and singing and drinking until far into the night. Especially the group from the little island called Asgard, an island somewhere up in the North, Jaime had never actually bothered to look up where exactly, was basically drowning in ale and apparently not feeling any kind of effect. Thor, the oldest son and heir, was a boisterous man and the leader, accompanied by his truthful pack of friends that included a woman, Lady Sif. They said she was one of the fiercest warriors of the North, well, she was definitely one of the prettiest.

Jaime sat with the Kingsguard as their newest brother, but he let his eyes fllitter over the crowd. That was when he saw her, the girl, now sitting among the Starks, next to Lady Lyanna. Her her hair was braided and she wore an elegant dress, apparently she was a lady-in-waiting to the Stark daughter. As if she had felt his eyes on her, she subtly started twirling a strand of hair around her finger in a definitely fliratious gesture. Then, suddenly, her eyes met his and she winked and smirked, making known that she had noticed his staring.

Jaime's primary embarassement at being caught was soon replaced by fury, how could a North bitch dare to mock a lion? He had never been as cunning as his sister or as his little brother was already, he was someone for blunt confrontion. But even Jaime knew he couldn't just walk up at Red and scare shit out of her. Still he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her, especially not when the dances began. She moved as gracefully as she had fought and seemed to be a very desired partner, not that he could blame anyone, objectively spoken of course. Brandon Stark just led her back to her seat, whispering something that made her dissolve into a fit of laughter. She looked radiant in the candlelight with her head thrown back, looking so carefree for a moment. Even though Jaime was fairly certain she actually wasn't. And matter of factly, his heart would always be taken, there was no room for somebody else.

Suddenly he noticed another blonde haired man asking Red for a dance and had to frown. The man in question was Ser Steven, a Lannister bastard. That was hard to deny, after all he had the broad built of his father, Jaime's uncle Ser Kevan, and the golden locks that all the family seemed to share. Only his eyes were different, instead of the vivid shades of green most Lannister eyes were coloured in his were blue, a notorious reminder that he was not trueborn. Born in the same year as Cersei and Jaime himself, the man was a formidable fighter and had therefore been knighted, despite being a bastard. He had his own lands now and had even been allowed to choose a name other than the "Hill " that marked all bastard from the Westerlands. His house would now be known as Starshield, the sigil a white star in rings of gold and red.

Sometimes, Jaime thought by himself that he was the picture perfect knight, all honour and goodness, but he had nothing of the ruthlessness Tywin always tried to teach him and Cersei and Tyrion. Still or maybe because of it, women fell in front of his feet as easily as for Jaime and he had seen from afar the way the other blonde commanded troops in battle (even though he had not been supposed to, it had been an emergency as there had been chaos and nobody could hold that against him) - People were willing to follow him, to die for him, because they believed in him, because they actually trusted him. The older Lannister generation knew it and therefore kept Ser Steven on a tight leash, trying to use it for their advantage.

Speaking of it, where was his wife? While the music started again, he spotted her, Maryah Starshield. Leaned against the wall in absolute confidence, she pointedly ignored the leering looks a lot of men gave her, instead watching her husband and Red with a slight smile on her face. Jaime wondered who of the two she enjoyed watching more. As another noble-born bastard from the Westerlands, former Maryah Hill, sister of Ambros Brax, was a beauty in her own right. Jaime objectively agreed to the public opinion, though she had never really captured his interest. Not exactly tall but taller than Red, her dark tresses were braided elaboratedly, she was the the picture of poise and elegance. What Ser Steven lacked in lion-style ruthlessness, his wife surely made up for: She was smart, always seemed to be alert and Cersei hated her guts. She said she was a nameless, plotting whore who would throw anything to the wolves if she could reap a benefit out of it. Tyrion on the other hand liked her, even though Maryah wasn't someone for sweet-talking and smalltalk and generally seemed annoyed as soon as she caught sight of Jaime she was always kind and fair to his little brother and shared his love for strategy games. She usually beat him at it, which only proved how dangerous she would be if she had any chance of moving up in social hirachy. Which she hadn't. Because her mother was just a commoner. Marrying Ser Steven was already more than a girl in her position could have ever hoped for, but they weren't a stupid match per se: Tying two houses even closer was always a good idea, his father had stressed. And they seemed to genuinely like each other. What was even more intriguing, she seemed to like the fighting. Jaime had seen Maryah watch her husband and by extension also himself fight, with an intensity that was borderline weird. And word went around Ser Steven regularly took her hunting and even trained her herself.

Another blonde woman, Lannister blonde Jaime thought dryly, joined Maryah, attracting more attention. Barbara, called Bobbi Hill, Ser Kevans second bastard and Ser Steven's younger sister, was one of the most lusted-after maidens at Casterly Rock. If Cersei hadn't been, him and Bobbi might have become good friends, Jaime thought. She was confident, witty, smart-mouthed, had lots of spirit and was known for her tantrums and epic fights with her brother. Apparently those fights often became pretty physical, though Jaime was very sure they were not sleeping with each other. Apparently she seemed to hold her sister-in-law in high regard, which definitely didn't appeal to Cersei.

Of course Jaime could have walked over and inquired after Red, but even if Maryah and Bobbi would not talk (and he was certain they would not, they weren't gossips), there would be rumours the next day. Rumours he didn't need. So he decided to join his brothers of the Kingsguard instead.

Even the next day he couldn't get his thoughts away from that peculiar encounter, only the fights (that he won) took his mind off it for a moment. Finally, he found out who the mysterious man Red had been with when he had first seen her was - a Northern one, James Barnes, sworn to House Stark. He wasn't a knight as the houses in the North seldomly announced knights in the name of The Seven, instead still hanging on to The Old Gods. So people called him the "Winter Soldier" and he was really good, even though he was missing one arm, as they told Jaime. Well, that explaiend his weird style.

All in all, the tournament proved to be very interesting. Jaime also noticed that two of the three boys that had assaulted the smaller man the day before did quite well, he wondered whether the man would challenge them at one point or not. Probably not, judging by the way he had fought yesterday. Lady Lyanna or Red would probably be more successful, the kingsguard thought to himself. He knew that the king wanted him to make his way back to King's Landing the next morning, making it impossible for him to stay during the whole tournament. A pity, really, but a price he was willing to pay.

He didn't see the Northern girl again, she seemed to have disappeared into thin air, well, fair enough, the Stark's were guarding their bitches just as the Lannisters guarded their lionesses. Then, he heard voices behind a tent.

"... shame they brought on him and he won't challenge them!" a female voice complained.

"He is not confident enough, not trained enough!" an even younger voice talked back, "even I would be better suited!"

"Would you?" That voice was familiar.

"Yes, of course! I have been training!"

"But you are so light, a pole has only to touch you and you are out of the saddle! You don't have enough force to push him out."

"Stop insulting me!" It's not only about weight but about technique!"

"She is right," a man responded, sounding suspiciously like Ser Steven. "Those men have wronged him but firstly, as my sister has said, you aren't sturdy enough for that sport. Yet. Secondly, if someone finds out, you will be in so much trouble!"

"But what shall we do?" the very first voice asked.

Curiously, Jaime walked around the corner, just to find Ser Steven, Maryah, Bobbi, Lady Lyanna Stark, James Barnes and Red clustered together, all looking at him suspiciously. He smiled, this might be fun after all.

"Lady Lyanna, Ser Steven, Lady Maryah, Bobbi" Jaime greeted the ones he knew, "I was wondering who your strange company was."

He was fairly certain he could hear Maryah sigh at the poorly veiled arrogance in his tone.

" Lord Barnes, at your service," the other soldier bowed, again this fucking smirk on his face as if sharing a secret joke with the others. Well, maybe they were.

"And this is Natalia."

The dark-haired man smiled at Natalia as she dropped another curtsy that could rival any lady in King's Landing.

"Your wife?" Jaime couldn't help from asking.

"No, Natalia Snow, his half-sister, Lady Lyanna Stark's lady-in-waiting," Red, or Natalia, answered even though he hadn't even asked her.

"You don't look like a girl from the North," Jaime blurted out.

She pointedly arched an eyebrow.

"Is that a compliment?"

He wanted to nod when he realized that she was luring him in a trap with that - either he insulted her or her people, with Lady Lyanna standing next to him.

"I simply meant they are not known for bright red hair," he tried to get out of it.

A small smile played around her lips as if she appreciated the fact that he had noticed her cunning.

"No, you are right. I was born under a werewood tree and so the Gods gave me light skin like the tree and red hair like the leafs."

Again, it was impossible to say whether that was the truth, but in any case, it was a nice story.

"So, I have heard you are talking about avenging," Jaime remarked, "Lady Lyanna, why not ask your brothers?"

She sighed. "Not that it is your business, Ser Jaime, but Ned doesn't compete in tournaments and Brandon as the heir can only do so for the Starks. Same goes for Bu- Lord James as heir of the Barnes family."

"I would but I can't, at least not officially, defend someone from the North," Ser Steven confirmed, "especially not with him knowing."

He motioned towards Jaime who huffed indignantly. Why was the other man implying he couldn't keep his mouth shut? That was definitely not true!

"Don't you worry, I won't tell," he confirmed, "though I think even disguised everyone would recognize or at least guess your sturdy built and your style Ser Steven."

Apparently surprised about the fact that he was actually contributing, the blonde man looked at him.

"And what do you propose?"

Well, that was a good question. Under the inquiring glance of Natalia, he might be even been convinced to do it himself, when he realized the king had already ordered him back to the capital.

"Maryah could do it," Bobbi suddenly remarked, causing absolut confusion.

"Have you already done it, trained with real tourney equipment?" Lady Lyanna asked curiously.

The dark-haired woman nodded. "I have and I would have a fair chance of winning," she stated matter of factly.

"How..?" James Barnes wanted to know, but Maryah just smirked.

"Having a supportive husband and a little castle where even Tywin Lannister doesn't bother what we are doing in our spare time has ist perks. Don't pretend you haven't trained your sister and Lady Lyanna doesn't know how to wield a sword."

She shared knowing smiles with Bobbi and the others who all nodded in agreement.

"Bobbi could do it, too," Maryah went on, "tall as she is, she might even pass as a man. But if anyone found out she would be doomed. Unmarried, Ser Kevan is responsible. Whereas for me..."

She shrugged her shoulders. It was true, she was under Ser Steven's command, nobody could raise a hand against her, Lady Starshield. She had been lucky, Jaime thought, she had more and more the feeling that she was treated as an equal. Not that he minded, after all in his relationship with Cersei, it was probably also her calling the shots.

"You will need an armour that fits. And a horse and entries in the register list," the kingsguard argued, "and supposedly it works, why would you do it anyway?"

"Because it is right. If that means anything to you, Kingsguard," she spat out. "And," she added, as if in an afterthought, "I really want to kick ass."

The others started laughing at that, Ser Steven even kissing her temple, a rare public display of affection between the two. Even though they were so different, the group seemed to have found each other and not for the first time in his life, Jaime felt kind of lonely.

"Alright, I will help you," he proclaimed, earning unbelieving looks, "but you have to trust me too!"

An unspoken conversation seemed to go on, the northerners looking at their Lady who seemed to have a stare-off with Maryah until she nooded.

"We accept the offer," the Western lady declared, "now we need to organize."

"It would be best to piece the armour together, then nobody will be able to trace it back," Natalia argued, if everyone gets some bits and pieces from their closest storage we will have it in no time. "Lannister, can you find a horse?"

She fixed her fern-green eyes on him again and he felt himself nodd.

"But don't expect a champion horse my lady, I have to borrow what I can find."

"I will sort out the list," Natalia declared, "but who will get Lady Maryah in her armour? Lady Lyanna has to be in the stalls as has Bobbi, Ser Steven could go though."

"Not the first time a couple suddenly disappears," Jaime remarked, cringing a bit under the knowing looks the others gave him.

"True," the lady confirmed, "you will be on your way back to King's Landing anyway, so you are not an option. James is slower with one arm that leaves Natalia. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes Mylady, I am," the girl confirmed, "I know how to maintain and put on an armour."

"We should sort out who is getting what."

"Of course. And Maryah needs another name and a sigil."

After they had come to an agreement about who was "borrowing" what, it took them considerably longer to decide on a name. Then, looking at Natalia with her light skin and red hair, Jaime suddenly had an idea.

"What about the 'Knight of the Laughing Tree?' We could paint a werewood tree on the shield, everyone will think her a northerner then because nobody else cares for the Old Gods."

"This is very good, actually," Ser Steven confirmed, "but who will make a shield that quickly?"

"That's only a question of gold."

"Your gold, Lannister?" Lady Lyanna taunted.

"Hey those two are half-lions too and you are not giving them shit!" Jaime complained, "but yes, I can sort it out."

"They are bastards, just like Lady Starshield and I. That changes perspective. But thank you for offering to take care of the shield, we accept," Natalia remarked and the kingsguard gulped at her dry tone.

"Then get it on, we meet at nightfall here again to report progress," Ser Steven decided.

Everybody nodded before they scattered, disappearing into different directions, leaving Jaime wondering what the seven hells he had gotten himself into.

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**To be continued**...


	2. Natalia I

**Welcome back to the next part! This one is now from Nat's POV.  
I am refering to a "Game of Thrones" Wiki for dates and ages, with slight support from an "A song of ice and fire" wiki where some dates vary a bit. Partly they are also adapted so that the Marvel characters match it better.  
**

**This chapter might raise some controversy but it is important to set up Nat's background story. At that point it has to be mentioned that I adore Catelyn Tully and she will feature a lot in later chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

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**Natalia**

Well, the days of the tournament had definitely proven to be even more interesting than Natalia had expected she mused, and it was far from over yet.

Firstly, she had been able to watch her brother Lord James, or Bucky, kick some guys' asses. That had been pretty awesome.

Secondly, she met the golden Lannister knight, the young lion everyone had been gushing about when he had been appointed to the kingsguard the first day of the tourney, he had made his vows and his father had been so outraged that he had left straight away. She had taken her time observing the famous Tywin Lannister and concluded he was indeed a scary man, his fury was quiet and cold and cutting like steel and the northwind. She wouldn't want to be at the recieving end of it. His oldest son was handsome, she had to grant him that, extraordinary eyes a bit like her own and she admired the way he was moving, as if he was hunting. Much like Bucky actually, but softer. And he was as arrogant as she had him expected to be. It had been fun vexing him, Natalia always knew when people were starting to feel confused or awkward and he had definitely been that. Why had he been staring? People often told her that she was a beauty, but someone like Jaime Lannister saw beautiful women everyday. Women with, quote Bucky: "A few years on her and already more tits.".

Anyway, it didn't matter, she didn't care for Jaime Lannister somewhere in the South, she was a Snow of the North. So was the man who made her heart beat faster in her chest and her brain weirdly fuzzy, who had made her giddy with excitement when they had met again after months apart, here in Harrenhal. She could feel that he liked her, too, but he was a rational one and rationally seen there could never be anything between them than the friendship they had formed over the years.

Thirdly, there was Prince Rhaegar, the star of the tournament, invincible. As her lady-in-waiting, Natalia had listened to Lyanna going on about him for hours: His looks, his skills, his charme. Well damn it that he was married. Because the lady was absolutely taken with him, more than with the loud Robert Baratheon who couldn't take his eyes off her.

Forthly, Bucky had made a friend, Ser Steven, or simply Steve. He was a Lannister bastard and a great fighter and a shame that he was living so far away. He was as good-looking as Ser Jaime, for sure, but a lot less prickly.

Fifthly, there were Maryah and Bobbi. Maryah, Ser Steven's wife, only a year or so older than Natalia herself with dark hair, blue eyes and a mouth as sharp as a sword. Bobbi was the knight's sister, beautiful, confident and most importantly, also a fighter. Natalia had never met a girl who had been interested in fighting other than Lyanna and it made her incredibly happy to know she was not alone. Also, they shared something that Lyanna, despite all her goodness, would never understand: What it meant to be a bastard in a world where only the surname counted.

Now they were on a mission together, to get Maryah ready so she could avenge Howland Reed who had been so shamefully bullied before. Those boys men had been about their age, not really men grown yet, so she actually might have a chance. The red-head would "arrange" her entry in the list the next day, she was incredibly good in sneaking around, so that shouldn't be a problem at all. As it turned out, all the others had done their taks as well. Among "the team" they would have a beautifully mismatched armour for Lady Starshield the next day that luckily fit when she tried it on in the dark behind the tents, clad in men's clothes. Ser Jaime actually had managed to get the shield painted and decorated as promised and it looked amazing, the only thing that stopped her from exclaiming out loud was the already smug look on the Lannister's face. No need to encourage that.

The Starshields' marriage was a mystery to her, from their interaction she could tell that they were close, but she didn't know whether they were in the way of friendship and support or the way of mutual desire. In any way, they had been lucky in their match, arranged as it had been. They had been married for about a year now and there was no sign of pregnancy, though that didn't have to mean anything. Bobbi had told Natalia that she and Maryah and Ser Steven had trained together at Casterly Rock (secretly, of course) whenever Maryah had been visiting (which had been often, apparently).

Making her way back to the Starks' tents with Lyanna and her brother, hoods deep in their faces, another man was suddenly stepping towards them. In the pale moonlight, she could see he wasn't wearing armour but still a heavy sword on his hip. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a self-assured walk. Without a doubt she knew who it was.

"I was wondering where you had been and went searching for you. Are you alright?" he wanted to know.

"Yes, we are fine, Bucky was with us the whole time," Lyanna confirmed.

They silently walked on until her brother suddenly pulled her lady away, leaving her and the man standing between the tents, slightly confused.

"Where did they go?" Natalia asked after a heartbeat, even though she was pretty sure they had just dashed away around the next corner to 'give the two of them some time alone'. Her brother could be such a sneaky bastard sometimes! (Well, not excatly, he was trueborn, she was the bastard, but whatever her mind was just going a bit crazy right now.) On one hand she had yearned for this, but on the other hand it was absolutely improper being alone with him at night. Not that the girl minded, but he might get all knightly and honourable and try to escape the situation. So she waited for his reaction, heart beating in her chest.

"I don't know and if I may tell the truth, I don't worry much about it," he answered, "as I am sure James is with Lyanna and will bring her back safely."

He took a deep breath as if to steel himself.

"Would you like to... go for a walk? I mean now? I know it is highly improper but -"

"Of course," she interrupted his rambling, cute as she found it, she had never heard him that flustered before. Feeling reckless, she took his hand, pulling him further towards the outskirts of the camp. Nobody gave them a second glance, but they only slowed down under some trees, out of sight of the other soldiers and knights.

With a thrill, Natalia realized he hadn't let go of her hand the whole time. He even pulled her a bit towards him, his free hand pushing back the hood of her cloak to free her red tresses.

"Where had you been the whole evening?"

"Talking to Maryah Starshield, we met her at one of the fires," she answered simply. She felt bad for keeping things from him but was also sure he wouldn't exactly approve of her plan to work together with Jaime Lannister. It was just a gut feeling.

He simply hummed.

"Her husband seemed quite taken with you last night. He even asked you to dance."

Natalia shrugged her shoulders.

"Why is it such a wonder to you that someone would want to dance with me?"

"No, it's not that. But he is basically a Lannister and they usually think they are above us."

"I think he just wanted to be friendly and make an aquaintance with someone fron the North and didn't dare to ask Lyanna because he felt one of her brothers, her fiancé or Prince Rhaegar would chop off his manhood if he did. Also he is a bastard, not a real Lannister, which makes me like him even more. He is a good man though, honourable, I reckon, you would like him. Bucky likes him I think and that means something to me."

Her companion muttered something she couldn't quite understand, but it sounded a bit angry.

"Are you jealous?," she asked lightly.

He scoffed again.

"What makes you say that?"

Natalia grew serious, her pulse accelerating. So it hadn't been wishful thinking, she had hit a nerve there!

"Because you get even more quiet than you already are when a man only as much as looks at me."

"You enjoy their attention." In his voice there was a hint of an accusation.

"What is wrong with that? At least it gives me some kind of appreciation.. It is not as if I have more to offer than a pretty face and a bastard name."

When he tried to speak she held up her hand, silencing him.

"You know it's true. I am forever grateful for my position, the one I only got because Lyanna likes me and convinced everyone a Snow was good enough for being a lady-in waiting to the future Lady OF Storm's End. But the thing is, I don't even want to marry some stranger and become his perfect wife. I -"

"What do you want then, Natalia?"

His eyes were piercing in the moonlight, and a shiver ran down her spine.

"You still haven't figured that out, have you?"

When he didn't answer, she wasn't sure whether she had simply overstepped a line or whether he was still trying to sort out the meaning of her words. It could be either, after all he was rather straight forward, while Natalia was adept at speaking in riddles. Finally, she sighed.

"Eddard Stark, you are such a morron."

Cupping his cheek with her free hand and rising to her tiptoes, she managed to brush her lips over his, just a butterfly kiss really. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she pulled back, hoping that the dark concealed the blush that spread over her face. Ned looked at her with an unreadable expression in his face. Suddenly, she felt a tug through her body, from where their fingers were still laced together, and she stumbled forward, her chest finally touching his. Natalia had to tilt her head up to look at him and when she did, she felt his eyes flicker from hers to her lips and back. Tentatively he lowered his lips to hers, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted, but why would she? When their lips finally met, the girl felt as if she might spontaneously combust from happiness. Ned kissed just the way he was, a bit reserved maybe but making her feel incredibly safe at the same time. Far too early, he pulled away. The man took a deep breath, it looked almost painful.

"We shouldn't be doing this though, you know", he began, "I mean I shouldn't have taken you here and -"

"Ned," she interrupted him, "I couldn't care less about your bloody knightly codex or any sensible reason right now. Unless you don't see me that way."

The man growled something that could have been 'to hells with it' before crashing his lips back onto hers. Natalia yelped in surprise before reciprocating, both of her arms resting around his neck, her body flush on his. They must have stumbled back because suddenly her back hit a tree, making their noses bump together ungracefully. Laughing lightly, she leaned back a bit to see him smiling down at her, an unusual tender expression on his face. The man quickly pulled off his gloves before tracing her temples and cheekbones down to her lips.

"You aren't just a pretty face to me," he confessed, his voice rough, "you are smart and funny and a fighter and I want to marry you when you come of age."

She couldn't help but pull him back towards her, tangling her hands in his dark hair.

"The world won't let you, you marry me, you know that," she said sadly after a while, "but it makes me glas to think you would."

"Fuck the world," he murmured, foreheads pressed together, "we will work it out."

"I never pictured you to be a rebel Ned," she teased him gently, hoping he couldn't hear the tears in her voice.

"Well, the things I do for love, for you Naty."

Her breath caught.

"You love me?"

Even in the healf-light the moon supplied he could see his confused frown.

"Would I tell you I want to marry you if I didn't? Who is the morron now?"

Instead of an answer, Natalia started peppering his face with kisses, feeling light-headed from joy. After a time that neither of the two cared to measure, Ned took a step back to hold something out to her.

"I have something for you, your nameday gift. I know it is a bit late but I wanted to give you something anyway."

Natalia soon realized it was a dagger in a sheath he was holding out to her, smaller than most to fit into her hand perfectly. The hilt was decorated with red inlays, the shapes ressembling hourglasses.

"Last time we talked you told me that would be your sigil if you could choose one," he explained.

"And you remembered," she answered, her voice sounding strangled with emotion. "Thank you Ned, truely. I love it."

She was aware of the gesture, that he was proving to her he didn't see her only as a bastard girl but as somebody worthy of her own house, of her own name. What bigger compliment could he make her?

"It needs a name," Ned argued.

"No, it doesn't. It is not a sword. But alright, if you insist." She considered for a moment. "I will call it 'Frost'."

Attaching it to her belt, she was very aware of her lover's eyes on her. Coming to a conclusion, she grabbed him at the front of his cloak, spinning the surprised man around so he was the one against the tree. With their difference in height, he could have easily pushed her off, but instead he pulled her closer with his arms around her waist. Natalia was amazed how this incredible good man could like a girl like her. But if he deemed her worthy, by the Gods she wouldn't argue.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Yes what?" He looked confused for a moment.

"Yes I will marry you," she confirmed. "And to hells with the world," she echoed his former words.

"Your father would say that you are too young to make such a decision," he reprimanded her, though he didn't sound serious at all.

"My father doesn't know how much I love you," Natalia only breathed against his lips before shutting him up again.

* * *

**And that is how trouble started...**

(Now we know where Robb got his "impulsive-marriage-streak from)

**Especially the second part was really dificult to write for me as I had never imagined Ned being with anyone but Cat before writing this fanfiction. Reviews are therefore highly appreaciated, as always.**

**I'd also like to know, whose perspectives would you like to read? Maryah, Sansa, Peggy, Arya, Tyrion or someone totally different? Suggestions my way please!**


	3. Steven I

Dear** Inkdrops,**

**thank you for staying with me on that story! I am delighted that so many of you actually read it, I would have never imagined that response! This chapter brings some action as well as a bit more depth into the Starshield marriage that will come up from time to time. (I have a bit of a CaptainHill-ship-thing going on, who has read my story Sibirian Summer might have realized lol)  
Please send any praise, critic or ideas my way!  
**

** Sam Hill: Guess what, there is a BIG Double-N (Nat/Ned) storyline coming up partly involving Catelyn. Tony will come up in later chapters as will Peter Parker though I haven't quite figured out what to do with him yet. Asgard is a little island (rather like Bear Island) and sworn to the North. They are no gods though.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything**

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**Steven**

If anything, people were even louder and wilder on this day of the tournament than on the days before, Steve concluded. The action of the last days together with the alcohol had riled the crowd up, now they were like dry wood just waiting for the spark. He was on edge, how could he not, after all his wife would compete in the tourney in a very short time. What had he thought when agreeing to this? The things that could happen to her! She could get caught, or worse she could get hurt. Well, then those men wouldn't see the next morning sun, he would make sure of that! But standing here next to her, fitting her into an armour that suited a poor hedge knight, not Lady Starshield, he felt closer to her than he had felt during all the time they had been married.

They weren't the worst match that was out there, definitely not. If he was honest (and he was a very honest man), he had had more luck than he deserved. Bobbi always joked that Maryah should have been born a Lannister because of her wit and cunning nature, and to a point Steve did agree. His Maryah was smart enough to stay alive and usually get what she wanted. Had she been a man, he was sure she would have commanded armies. Had she been Tywin Lannister's trueborn daughter, she would have been the next queen. No doubt. But as chance would have it, she had been born Maryah Hill and then forced to marry him. Now she was his and Gods be damned if he let anything happen to her!

He was proud that his lady wanted to step up for a man who couldn't, especially someone who was actually not her concern, but he also had no illusions - she wanted to prove something to herself and maybe also to him. That she hadn't trained for nothing, that she was better than a man, that a bastard could beat those trueborns in a fair fight.

Next to the brown-haired woman, the petite red-head was just fixing buckles and straps expertedly. Steve found her, Natalia, intriguing, there was something about her he couldn't quite figure out. Bobbi and Maryah had dared him to ask her for a dance at the feast and in a whim, he had done it. The knight was aware that he was actually a really bad dancer, but somehow they had worked it out and it had even been fun. She had been marvellous though, graceful and light on her feet. But when he had met her brother, James 'Bucky' Barnes, he had told him that he had been training her and that she was a good rider and fighter as well. Funny, Steve had always thought that he was the only one who had done that, trained his sister (and his wife). Apparently, Lyanna Stark also knew a couple of things about weapons, he would have never thought so. - Of course Maryah had.

"My knight, you are ready," Natalia proclaimed, curtsying in front of Maryah who rolled her eyes good naturedly.

While she got the horse and held It, Steve helped the lady up into the saddle.

"Take care, be safe and come back in one piece," he told her seriously.

She nodded.

"Of course, you know me."

"That's exactly why I am scared," he tried to joke, smiling when she scrunched her nose.

"Alright."

She closed the helmet, covering her face before turning her horse and riding to the jousting area. Steve motioned the red-head to follow and she did, both waving through the mass of people. With a last look at each other, they separated, her moving in the direction of Lady Lyanna while the man started to search for his sister. The audience cheered when the strange knight rode in, luckily the helmet also changed her voice so nobody would make the connection.

The sport began and Bobbi grabbed his arm so tightly that he was sure he would see the imprints of her nails in his arm later. Maryah was good, even better than he had expected, and kicked the first one out of the saddle in no time.

The second one proved to be more difficult and managed a hit that would definitely leave a bruise on her chest, but she managed to keep herself on the horse. Whatever Ser Jaime had claimed, the mare Maryah was riding wasn't bad at all, on the contrary. It was the right size with an even gallop and quicker than her opponent's, giving her the possibility to aim and enough force to finally win against him. He hit the floor with a hollow 'clonk', for a whole minute unable to get up. Next to the sands, the squire they had organised for the woman seemed to be confused about her success but kept coming to her side just right, so it was fine. The crowd on the other hand seemed to love her, if the roaring was any indication, and Steve only hoped that it wouldn't sweep her away and lower her concentration.

Apparently his worry was in vain because when the third opponent came riding in, her composure straightened again. Her husband knew this movement, it was the one she would do before starting to argue with him. Or before telling some servant off, making them shrink under her ice-cold stare.

Some of the workers at their little castle they called home had whispered that she was heartless, but Steve knew it was far from the truth. She cared about each and everyone of them, she knew all of their stories - who had just had another baby, whose mother was ill, who needed more support. But she didn't do favourites and she didn't let mistakes slide easily. Even though her judgement was just and her punishments never overly cruel, it rubbed some people the wrong way that she seemed to notice everything. And he meant really everything. Whether the smith hadn't taken care of all of the horses or whether a kitchen made had burned the bread three times in a row - he could be sure Maryah would know. It was creepy sometimes. He himself wasn't an exception, by the Gods not! When she very early in their marriage had discovered that he wouldn't physically or mentally lash out at her or abuse her, she had started to drop the pretense of being the perfect humble wife that the Braxes and Lannisters had expected her to be, at least when it was only the two of them. They would fight, sometimes with words or sometimes on the training ground, beating the shit out of each other. Once she had carried away a bruise on her cheekbone from where he had accidently hit her with the pommel of his sword and he had been mortified. HE would get a reputation of a husband who hit his wife! Maryah had only shrugged and declared that most wouldn't find anything wrong with it.

This callousness had put him off at first, let him hold her at arm's length until he had leaned to appreciate her rational way of thinking. The two of them actually complimented each other very well - one to like and one to fear, like carrot and stick his wife argued matter of factly. She could also be quite funny, actually, when she was relaxed (or drunk) and she could be genuinely nice without wanting anything in return (not like his beautiful scary despicable cousin Cersei). All in all, Maryah was someone he could respect, someone he could like, someone who shared his burdens better than he had ever anticipated a wife would. He was a lucky bastard indeed, as his charming sister had so accurately proclaimed.

Bobbi had asked him once whether he loved his wife and Steve hadn't quite known what to respond. Did he? He admired her, surely, he considered her his friend, his confidante and he would be a blind man if he denied that he was physically attracted to her. Though even in their wedding bed, nothing had ever happened between them, he wasn't some brute who would force himself on a woman just because he could.

He wasn't even sure whether those feelings where mutual, it was hard to say with someone as guarded as Maryah.

Like in slow motion, he saw her press the spurs into the horse's sides and the mare sprung into action. Her opponent rode just as aggressively, leaning forward in his passion. Steve prayed to the Seven that she would use that, this disequilibrium, to hit him, but her arm seemed to have lost its straight, wavering. Then, suddenly it shot up in perfect precision, hitting the man with the force gathered because of the speed she was riding. The knight would have given good money to see the man's face as we swayed before slowly moving to the side like a boulder making its way into the valley, with fill force and unstoppable.

The Knight of the Laughing Tree was declared the winner but obviously didn't take off the helmet, instead leaving the arena under the cheers and whistles of the crowd. He disappeared as well to meet her at the designated spot, to his surprise Natalia was already waiting. How come that girl was so quick?

They peeled Maryah out off the metal plate with lots of efficiency, while he took off the heavy helmet she was already loosening the shoulder protection. With her hair sweaty and tousled, she didn't look much like a lady. But her eyes were shining so brightly at the moment that he felt she had never looked more beautiful.

"You did wonderful!" he told her, "the crowd loved you."

"They loved the show and the thought of a secret knight," she played it down, "but thank you anyway."

Despite her words she failed to cover up her delight completely.

"Lady Starshield, I have a dress for you to change into," Natalia offered in that moment, ushering her behind some bushes away from Steve.

When they emerged again a couple minutes later, his wife looked socially presentable again. The hair had been combed and braided in an easy but pretty style but there was still a healthy glow on her cheeks.

"My Lord, my lady," the girl said to the couple, "I will leave you to it then."

She didn't quite specify what "it" was but having met Bucky and their interaction, Steve had the suspicion Natalia's thoughts weren't that pure and innocent.

"I will get the horse back to where Ser Jaime got it from and confuse people a bit."

Without waiting for an answer, she had swung herself on the animal, motioning for someone to pass her the shield. When the knight did so, she gave the horse the spurs, disappearing into the forest.

"Well, that was fast," Maryah commented dryly.

He hummed in agreement, not quite able to stop his eyes from roaming over her again.

"What are you looking at?" she wanted to know.

"You," he answered truthfully, blushing embarrisingly quickly.

"Obviously Steve," his wife answered, totally missing the point. When he averted her eyes, struggling for words (again), she seemed to realize what he had meant.

"Oh.." apparently she wasn't prepared to deal with a situation like this either, them having separate bedrooms and all, so she tried to play it down.

"It's fine, I mean, I am you wife," Maryah declared brusquely. It sounded a bit like an accusation.

"So I take it you'd rather not?"

"I never said so. I mean, is there any point arguing about it? We are wed and that's it."

"You could have it annulled. You know I would hold no grudge against you, after all this was not your choice either."

He didn't tell her that it would hurt him more than he cared to admit and that he really really didn't want to loose her.

"Annull this marriage and risk the fury of the Lannister family and my family combined? Steve I am not stupid. Besides, I know I have been lucky."

The small smile she gave him warmed him up from the inside and gave him hope that there might be something 'more' possible for the two of them. Somewhere in the was difficult and always would be, but maybe he would find a way to thaw her up, now that spring had finally come.

They walked back, her arm in the crook of his elbow. People seemed to be especially restless now, it sounded like a giant beehive from further away. Up close, the words "king", "Knight of the Laughing Tree " and "Jaime Lannister" where the most shouted. Just when Steve wanted to inquire what had happened, someone spoke up closely next to him.

"Everyone wants to know who the mysterious knight was! The king seems to be furious, he thinks Ser Jaime defied his orders and came back to fight in secret. The next time the knight shows up, men are supposed to grab him and rip off his helmet to unveil his identity. Can you imagine that?!"

Natalia was still faking excitement and horror with such talent that Steve would have absolutely believed it, had he not known the knight in question was currently being pressed against his other side by the masses.

"It's all done," the girl murmured under her breath.

"Thank you," he could see Maryah mouth, "I owe you."

"No worries," the red-head chirped, "the North remembers."

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**Thank you so much for reading!**

**What do you think? Comments are very welcome!**


	4. Maryah I

**Finally I came around to write chapter 4!  
It will be the last "Harrenhal" chapter before there will be a huge jump forward in time and I am introducing another POV and mention a new Marvel character here.  
I know it is a bit on the shorter side and less action-packed but I needed to tie up the ends and the next chapters will make up for it. :)  
So enjoy and let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own GOT/ ASOIAF and Marvel**

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**Maryah**

Adrenaline was still cursing through her veins, she had done it, she really had done it! Ridden at a tourney, beaten men at a tourney! Of course it would have been nice to hear people shout her name, her real name, but the praise for her alias "The Knight of the Laughing Tree" was satisfying enough.  
From an early age, Maryah had learnend to work with what she had, take what she could, aim high but be reasonable and never let ambition or greed blind her. She could take a lot, she was resilient, that was one of the reason why she had agreed to marry Steve, back then still Steven Hill, in the first place. It had been a tactical decision from her side - she had met him before and known him to be fair and honorable and such a husband could not be worse than experiencing her family's contempt day after day. Also it had been quite obvious that given time Steve would gain a formidable reputaion in the Lannister army and improve his, and by extension her, station. With her cunning and cleverness, she had always known she could work from there given the chance, making them even more successful once they had the basics. It wasn't as if she had any Illusion about besting the Lannisters, but she had always hoped to gain influence in the Westerlands, one way or another. Her aim wasn't having power for power's sake (she wasn't like Cersei Lannister who had herself seen as the queen before Prince Rhaegar had married Elia Martell), but having power to make a change for the smallfolk. Systems had to be improved, justice had to be brought and she was planning to do that.

Most of her cons had worked out so far: Steven Hill had really become Ser Steven and had earned lands and a title, making her Lady Starshield of Brookbridge, an unimportant little castle. The "unimportant" part had turned out to be a blessing as they were mainly left in peace at the edge of the Westerlands. So Steve had trained her and his sister, made them strong fighters able to hold their own. Because of a rigorous change in system, they were currently improving the quality of the land, making less people starve. The woman was aware that a lot of people feared her or disliked her for her cold demeanour, but that was something she accepted if it helped on the long run. At least they liked her husband. That was the other part of the tactic: Good soldier - bad soldier.

Her biggest strategical achievement had been the acceptance through Tywin Lannister. It had taken time and it still was a bit of a surprise but it had worked.  
Firstly she had advised Steve to keep his head down, be dutiful to his father and obedient to the Warden of the West - otherwise they would see him as a threat. Maryah was proud to think that her husband was one of the best commanders and best fighters in whole Westeros, dangerous and inspiring a loyalty in men that even fear and money couldn't. Therefore it had been important to show the Lannisters they were 100% supporting their course. Well, at least officially. Maryah always had a couple of emergency plans ready.  
Now that they believed Ser Steven Starshield their loyal vasall, it had been crucial to show her own personal goodwill. When Maryah had been younger, she had made the mistake of presenting her cleverness too openly, so everyone had become aware of it. Playing stupid had therefore not been an option, so she had presented herself to Tywin Lannister as a woman who smartly backed the lions but also knew her limits and her place - exactly how the older man wanted his daughter Cersei to be who was clever but not clever enough to know when to stop.  
The Starshields had made themselves so popular that Ser Kevan let Bobbi stay with them for longer periods of time and Tywin Lannister had trusted them with his little bastard daughter. Carol was a stain on his otherwise so "impeccable" reputation, an open secret nobody really talked about. She had been born at the foot of Casterly Rock by a common mother who had been cast away by Tywin as soon as she became pregnant. At least he had had the decency to make sure the child was fed and clothed by sending money down every other month. At some point, the mother had died from the pox and for some reason the big lion had actually bothered about his bastard offspring. Whether he felt guilty or whether it was political strategy or his weird sense of duty or whether he suddenly saw her as part of his "Lannister legacy", even the shrewd Maryah couldn't quite tell. Fact was that not long ago he had claimed her as Carol Hill and asked them (well, commanded rather, nobody in their right minds would refuse Tywin Lannister something like that) whether they could foster the little blonde lion cub. Obviously they had agreed. Both knew first hand how cruel the world could be and if they could get one kid out of the influence of Casterly Rock, the better.

Steve doted on Carol as if she was his second little sister and the girl had taken a liking to him right away (well, who wouldn't) whereas she rather defied Maryah's tries of ruling in her temprament. The older woman had been sure that the child hated her until Steve had told her in confidence that Carol just wanted to be like her - not afraid in this world anymore. So when they had been sure that she wasn't spying for Tywin, they had started to train her, too. No surprise, she showed the same talent for swordsmanship than most of her family, she was hard to beat down and always got up again.  
"Higher, further, faster" was her motto.  
Sometimes Maryah was struck by how much she ressembled her older brother: The golden hair, the same smirk, the same loose tongue. It was almost amusing how cocky a nine-year-old girl could be when she had done a job well, but Maryah was sometimes afraid that it might get her killed one day.  
She didn't admit it often, but she had learned to genuinely care for the kid.

She also had learned to genuinely care for her husband, which was something else she hadn't seen coming. At first, she had accepted him as a good man but never as her master. At some point, she had started to trust him and they had become partners, good partners. They relied on each other and worked incredibly well together, better than she had ever thought possible. Steve listened to her opinion without her having to manipulate him, just because he appreciated her. They were friends, at least Maryah thought so, and having a true friend in this world was better than gold.  
He had never asked anything of her that she wasn't willing to give, though to be fair, after they had faked the wedding night he never had asked anything of her, period. The didn't share the same quaters, which wasn't unusual, and he didn't seem to be concerned about heirs for now. At first Maryah had wondered whether there was somebody else, but she had her eyes and ears everywhere in the castle and she would have heard whispers. Also he wasn't the type for that. She had taken into account that maybe he wasn't interested in women, which wouldn't have her, but she hadn't heard reports about that either. Sometimes she secretly wished for more closeness between the two of them and it made her feel horrible that he would think that she was unhappy with this marriage. The truth was that she couldn't deal well with feelings, so the lady tended to shut them out and not express them. She was also horribly afraid of destroying the fragile and very valuable equilibrium the two of them had found. The propect of opening up just scared the seven hells out of her.

Maybe Harrenhal had been good for the two of them, at least they had had fun and made new aquaintances. James Barnes and Natalia Snow had been delightful and also the Stark-girl had been a lot nicer than she had initially thought. She would make a good Lady of Storm's End, though Maryah was relatively sure she was rather in love with the already married Rhaegar Targaryen. Well, a lot of women were, hopefiully it was just a short infatuation. If not, there would be trouble. So much trouble, from the North down to Dorne and the Starshields would be in the middle of it.

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**And there was a lot of trouble and the Starshields ended up being in the middle of it... ;)  
That's gonna be the next part.**


	5. Natalia II

**Dear Inkdrops,  
thank you all so much for reading, following/favouriting and commenting!  
Instead of Jumping forward in time as intended the muse made me write another chapter closer after Harrenhal -lots of foreshadowing and that sort of thing... I hope you enjoy.**

**This chapters inoficial title is "Love and other follies".**

**Just for your Information: In this timeline Lyanna is born 264 or 265 AC which makes her only slightly younger than Natalia. It is never stated that Cat was at Harrenhal but also never that she wasn't. As her mother was a Whent, I think it can be assumed that she was.**

**Obviously most of my parings are already planned, but I would still like to know from you which couples (no matter whetehr it is GOT/GOT or Marvel/GOT or Marvel/Marvel) you would like to see. Of course any other feedback is appreciaated too.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.**

* * *

**Winterfell, 279 AC**

**Natalia**

"Sooo…," Lyanna drawled lazily from where she was sitting on her bed and Natalia knew she was in trouble.  
Big trouble. Her lady's face held this special expression, mischivous but also determined and the red-head knew there was an interrogation coming. The bastard girl had always been a formidable liar, growing up rather unloved had made her harden up fairly early, but Lyanna had a way of seeing through her bullshit. Also, the girl didn't want to lie to her.

"What's the matter?" she asked back, trying to sound nonchalantly but judging by the other girl's laugh, failing spectacularly.

"We haven't talked about what happened at Harrenhal. Yet."

It was true, they hadn't, all the implications were still hanging in between the two friends like thick grey fog. All the way back home from the event, people had been around them and if, by chance, they had been left in peace, Natalia had not really known where to begin.

"No Lya, we haven't," she therefore agreed, sitting down on the bed next to her.

The wolf-girl turned towards her, eyes shining brightly.

"Which knight do you deem the most handsome?" she wanted to know, "or wait, no, which five knights did you find the most attractive?"

Natalia pondered about that question, it was nothing she had lost sleep over so far, therefore it took her a moment to come up with an answer.

"Well, alright, Ser Steven Starshield, Ser Jaime Lannister, Rhaegar Targaryen, Oberyn Martell and Brandon."

Pretending to faint dramatically, Lyanna fell back onto the bed before rolling to her side to look up at Natalia.

"Explain!" she ordered. Natalia took a deep breath.

"Ser Steven is handsome and has a nice smile and he gets flustered easily and has no idea how to talk to women which is kind of endearing I think. I never thought I would say this and I will deny it until my dying day but from a neutral point of view I think Ser Jaime is as dashing as people say, emerald eyes and golden hair and a pearly smile. I find his arrogance however rather annoying and not very flattering. Rhaegar Targaryen is very good-looking and I doubt you will fight me on that, but his eyes are giving me the creeps, seriously! Prince Oberyn…" she sighed dreamily, obviously exaggerating, "I know now why they call him the Red Viper. He is so fast, I love the way he moves and you know what they say about men who move like that…"

She grinned saliciously when Lyanna gasped scandalized and threw a pillow at her head that she caught easily.

"Naty, where did you hear things like that?!"

"I was sitting next to Brandon, Robert Barratheon and my brother at the feast. Does that explain things?"

"I guess it does," the lady muttered under her breath, "dirty minds, all of you!"

"Look who is talking Lya," Natalia remarked, "I saw the way you were looking at a certain knight and Robert Baratheon was basically undressing you with his eyes the whole time."

The other girl sighed.

"But Prince Rhaegar is simply beautiful! I don't know what problem you have with his eyes! When he gave me that crown of winter roses… Naty, when he gave it to me, I didn't know what to do! My heart was beating so loudly I felt Ned must have heard it next to me and I was so happy that the prince actually took notice of me but I also know it was wrong and it should have been Elia Martell who was crowned. And nobody was smiling anymore, everyone was suddenly so afraid, even you and Ned and Brandon, I could see it. That scrared me most of all! But his attention still felt so nice."

Natalia hummed in understanding, it was what she often had felt like around Ned - Dizzy on his attention, on his smiles and too aware that she was on dangerous terrain.

"You know you can't have him though, your prince, he is already a husband!"

Even though she seemed a bit reluctant, Lyanna finally nodded in understanding.

"Yes, I know you are right. But there is also something else: Most people with eyes in their head can see that Robert Baratheon wants me. But you and me both know that even if - when- he makes me Lady of Storm's End, he will always stray from my bed. Ned says he loves me and maybe he does, but who says that will last? And who says that will be enough to make this marriage work? I don't want to be one of many, Naty."

Her red-haired friend laid back until she could bed her head on the pillow next to Lyanna's, looking at her with a far-away expression. She was wondering how to comfort the other girl but how to be honest at the same time.

"You know," she began, "after seeing Robert again at Harrenhal, I am convinced he definitely wants you and I am inclined to believe Ned that he loves you. Though he only knows you on the surface so he can only love what he knows: Your beauty, your wit, your good heart. He has no idea about your iron backbone, your stubborness, your warrior spirit, all the things that make you so precious to your family. That will either scare him away or keep him in your bed on the long run. I think he is a good man though and would never hurt you or let somebody else raise a hand against you and that is more than a lot of women can say about their husbands."

After a moment of consideration she added, her voice only a whisper in the quiet room: "And if he is too distracted, you could always get yourself some distraction, too. You are smart, you could pull that off. But better don't get pregnant and choose someone dark-haired, just in case. You don't want to have to explain why you suddenly have a blonde son."

Lyanna seemed to be a bit dumbfounded by the recklessness and the callousness of the consideration, but finally nodded, looking a bit relieved.

"Thank you," she whispered back, "I had never seen it that way but it feels good to have a plan in case the worst happens. You have given that quite some thought, haven't you?"

When the other one only nodded, the wolf-girl grabbed her hand, holding it.

"Will you come to Storm's End with me?" she asked pleadingly, grey eyes wide and soft.

Natalia met them with her fern-green orbs.

"Lya, I don't know whether I can."

"Why not?" the other girl asked confused, "your Lord Father doesn't have any ambition to keep you close, you are even staying here when your brother is visiting him at Howling Falls. So there is nothing holding you here- unless…"

A smirk started to grow on the lady's face and Natalia could feel her face heating up.

"Did my brother dear finally get his bearings together, put his courage to the sticking place and proposed to you?"

"Well," the other one began to explain, "as you and Bucky had so conveniently disappeared at Harrenhal, we went for a walk"

-"and he asked you to marry him?"

"No, not exactly," Natalia went on, "he gave me a wonderful nameday present and he was unnecessarily jealous about Ser Steven dancing with me and he was rambling so I kissed him to shut him up"

-" and then he asked you?" the lady all but screeched, ignoring her friend's hectic signs to please be quiet.

"No Lya, let me finish!" she hissed, "he rather… stated he would marry me and I agreed."

The next moment, Natalia was tackled on the bed, Lyanna joyfully hugging her.

"Naty, I am so happy for you," she mumbled into the bushy red locks, "you are probably the only one who deserves him. And I know you have been in love with him for years and he has been mooning over you probably just as long." She pulled away to lay down next to her, popped up at one ellbow. "You're aware though that this is so unlike Ned, causing a scandal. And there will be a scandal Naty, you know that and he knows that and he wants to marry you anyway. Are you sure you didn't fuck his brains out?"

Blushing as crimson as her hair, Natalia hid her face in the pillows, her shoulders shaken with giggles.

"No," she finally said when she could look at Lyanna again, "I didn't, I mean we didn't… but hey, now you are the one using crude language! And I know it will be a scandal and people will hate me but honestly - I don't care so much."

Lyanna nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, Ned is not the heir and with Brandon marrying Catelyn Tully and me and Robert, the family is well connected. Also, a Barnes-match isn't a stupid one and my father likes you, so maybe they will forgive you."

Then her friend scrunched her nose.

"What do you make of Catelyn Tully?"

"As you know I only spoke to her shortly when you were standing next to me. She was perfectly polite, the true Lady of Riverrun and no doubt the pride of the family. She probably breathes their motto, all duty and honour. She was charming to Brandon, nice enough to Ned and Ben and pleasant to you. But when she was talking to me, her eyes were cold. I think she deems herself better than me and can't understand why you keep me around as company. She would probably have been all smiles if I were Lady Barnes though," Natalia stated.

There was definitely bitterness in her voice now, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Suddenly, Lyanna wrapped her in her arms again and pulled her close into a hug.

"I keep you little spit-fire around because you are my sister if not by blood and I love you and I would fight the world for you and you would do the same for me. And if Catelyn Tully can't see that you are wonderful then she is a fool. Also I think she is jealous because you are so incredibly beautiful and Bran likes you. As you said, Catelyn is all duty and probably afraid you will steal her husband."

Hugging the dark-haired girl back, the red-head had to laugh.

"As if I were ever interested in Brandon! Seriously! What will Catelyn Tully say when she finds out I am planning to become her sister-by-law by marrying Ned, the man I love, just to mention."

"She will probably faint," Lyanna giggled, "being connected to you, even just by marriage, how will she stand it? So you better wait with the wedding for when Brandon has her wedded and bedded, Robert won't particularly mind Ned's choice of bride anyway."

Natalia nodded, her thoughts drifting up into the realm of possibilities, of what Ned and her could become, imagining a boy with his dark hair and her green eyes and a little girl with a face like Lyanna's but hair the colour of dying embers. Slowly she was nodding off in the huge bed that was so much softer than her own but just before sleep could claim her, a thought startled her.

"Lya, but if I marry Ned, I will have to share Winterfell with Catelyn!"

Seeing her panicked facial expression, the lady bursted out laughing again, making the other girl frown.

"That is not funny!"

"You are right, it isn't, but it could be worse. Brandon could have been engaged to Cersei Lannister."

* * *

_"OMG writer-chick, this is SO MUCH FORESHADOWING it is nearly embarassing! Subtlety isn't your strong suit is it darling?"_

_Excuse me, who is speaking?_

_"Pool, Dead - Deadpool. But you could call me Wade Wilson, writer-chick."_

_Oh gosh no, not you! Why come up now? What do you want from me?_

_"Well, it is just soooo amusing how even in fanfiction "smart" characters out of two universes don't realize they could simply break the fourth wall. So, my darling writer-chick, I decided to do this!"_

_You are aware that I am writing YOU too?! And don't call me writer-chick, my name is -_

_"Yes yes whatever… Honestly what kind of name is SilverInk?"_

_I thought it was cool at the time. And honestly what kind of name is Deadpool?_

_"Fair enough Silvy, now let's talk business: We all know that those cute girls here are going to do some incredibly stupid things and some incredibly horrible things are going to happen to them, right? And it is also already quite obvious that Nat is going to be Jon's mum and the whole Stark children are going to be her children too, because Sansa has red hair just like her and Robb too and Arya is very spirited just like her. I have to admit, this is perfect. Now you only have to kill Cat and Brandon and be done with it. I can help you if you like!"_

_Thanks but no thanks, I do the killing myself. Besides, you don't even know what you are talking about as you are a very unreliable narrator!_

_"Aww but you will integrate Natalia in the Stark family, right? When they kill Ned, then she is the Red Widow lol. Reminds me of Red Wedding... no idea where that idea came from…"_

_Oh shush Wade, if you keep annyoing me you will never be part of the story!_

_"You would make me part of it? Really? REALLY?"_

_I might have some ideas, but stop buggering me!_

_"Alright Sylvie, I'll be good - for now!"_


	6. Jaime II

**Sooo, next chapter and I can't help myself I keep procrastinating Robert's Rebellion for some reason... as a result, have some Jaime and some gossip, just a short intelude though.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything**

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**280 AC, King's Landing**

** Jaime**

When they told him his childhood friend Addam Marbrand had come back from the West, Jaime was delighted. The two had not met in far too long and in this big cruel city it was always good to see a friendly face. Especially now as the king had become more and more mad and took a delight in burning people as a way of execution. It was brutal, it was savage, and Jaime had to watch, again and again, day after day. He had to hear their screams; men, women and children begging for mercy. With time, the young knight had developed the habit of 'going away inside', of tuning out everything around him. It was his way to stay sane. Still, he felt his inner resolve wearing thinner by the day.

Addam brought with him a letter that spotted the Starshield sigil and Jaime had to smile when he sat in his chamber alone, his fingers tracing the wax. He still couldn't claim to be friends with them, but ever since Harrenhal their dynamic had shifted. Shortly after the tourney, the kingsguard had swallowed down his pride and messaged the couple to ask about his little sister's well-being. It wasn't as if he hadn't cared about Carol before, he had, but his father had known how to make any closer interaction difficult. As a result he had only ever seen her once, after her mother had died and Lord Tywin had taken her in. Jaime had been a squire at Crakehall at that time and more of a guest at the Rock. However after his "collaboration" with Ser Steven and Lady Maryah, he felt comfortable in approaching such rather personal concerns with them. To his surprise, his sister had written back herself, starting a sporadic exchange of letters and raven scrolls. Jaime still hated writing and reading, but for his sister, even if she wasn't his twin, he would try.

He broke the seal and read:

_Dear Jaime,_

_Brookbridge is the same as usual, there is not a lot happening. Well, other than Bobbi being back. I like that. I am training every day now and I am using a bigger needle. It is still blunt hough. I can't wait until I can use a real steal needle! Please brother, can you write to Lady Maryah and ask her to let me? She is the one mainly practising with Bobbi and me now and she is very very good. Would you have thought that? I didn't to be honest. She said that is a mistake I often make, not using my brain enough. She said I am a lot like you in that aspect. I am not sure whether that was meant to be an insult but I don't think so. I think it was only an observation and she is probably right. Lady Maryah is cold, but not as cold as father. She does smile, whether you believe it or not. Tyrion came to visit us some time ago, but only for a few days when Ser Kevan brought us Bobbi. I hope to see you soon so I can show you everything._

_Your sister Carol_

Her words full of excitement made the knight smile, it was refreshing. Also he was glad about what she told him, Carol seemed to be happy and well taken care of, far away from their father's scorn and able to train as she pleased. To him, it was obvious that the "needles" she was writing about were actually swords, especially after she had written that in a former letter. Now she seemed to be more careful in the content of her messages. Lady Starshield was definitely a good fighter and apparently an adequate teacher. Jaime wasn't surprised that Carol perceived her stern expression as "ice-face", but apparently she showed some softness from time to time. Not that Jaime could confirm that, he had never been on the receiving end of it. There were two more letters folded into Carol's.

The first one was short.

_Ser Jaime,_

_For some reason I cannot fathom did Carol write you about her practising with needles. As moons have past since that incident and your father hasn't taken her away yet, I trust you haven't told him. I ask you, please don't tell anyone, that includes your older sister. You know I wouldn't ask you if I didn't deem it important. Carol loves it but needs more time to master the needlework, so it has to be kept a secret for now._

_Regards, Lady Starshield_

Oh, so Lady Starshield actually seemed to care, she was a proud woman and wouldn't ask anything if she didn't have a good reason to. Of course he hadn't told his father, he could remember just too clearly how angry he had become when Cersei had asked him to teach her how to fight. Jaime was glad that at least one of his sisters would get the chance now and he wouldn't jeopardize It, not even to please his twin.

It was no secret that Cersei would do everything she could to further discredit Lord Tywin's little bastard daughter. Both her brothers found it paranoid and downright cruel, but she always insisted that the child wasn't a true Lannister and therefore didn't deserve their compassion. Even though Jaime didn't call her out on it, he never participated either. In his opinion, Cersei had no reason to be jealous, she would always be his number one, his second half, the love of his life. Because of her 'lower birth', Carol was also barely acknowledged by Lord Tywin, however sometimes her older brother considered whether that wasn't actually a blessing in disguise.

He moved on to the last piece of writing:

_Jaime,_

_They say we should leave the gossip to the wives but you don't have one and mine doesn't gossip so I feel obliged to share this information with you: I have it on good authority that Eddard Stark of Winterfell has married Natalia Snow, the daughter of Lord Barnes. You might remember her from Harrenhal, a short pretty red-haired girl, Lady Lyanna's lady-in-waiting. Apparently Eddard was to be wed to another which made them act. It caused a scandal, I think, they seem to be at the Eyrie now. I am fairly confident to say that this was a love match and I wish them only luck, by the Gods they will need it._

_Steven_

The kingsguard broke out into a full belly laugh, this was just hilarious. Ned Stark the rogue, who would have thought. But well, his sweet sister proved to him time after time how week a woman could make a man. Jaime would not judge the northman either way, whether he had married the Snow for her beauty, to spite his parents or for love. Neither would he judge the girl if she simply wanted to secure herself a place in society next to an honourable if very stern and passionless man. But somehow he had the feeling Natalia wasn't the type for that and he might even be inclined to believe what his cousin had written about a love match.

He wasn't sure what made him do it, it probably was just a reckless spontaneous idea, but the next day he found himself in the workshop of a goldsmith, ordering a necklace the shape of the head of a direwolf. It was made of rosegold and emeralds were molded into it, making it look red-haired and green-eyed like Natalia. The delicate chain was made of the same precious material, Jaime grinned when he thought about the fit his father would throw at the sight of auch a wedding gift for a girl with nothing to her name but a scandalous marriage.

"Ser, would you like any other alteration made?" the smith asked, still bewildered by Jaime's requests.

"Yes," he commanded, "I want something engraved on the back. 'We don't choose who we love.' And send it to the Eyrie, no comment with it, they don't need to know who it is from."

The man still looked confused.

"To whom exactly?"

"Natalia Sn- Stark. Natalia Stark."

Lady Natalia. The name tasted strange on his tongue, stranger than simply calling her Red, and he had to smile. It was a mad world indeed.

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**Thank you for reading! What do you think? Tell me please!**


	7. Raven I

**Thank you so much for your interest in this!**

**Now finally a new chapter. Including Erik and the rest of the crew was so not my intention at first, but my best friend made me ;)**

**I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Got and I don't own Marvel - neither the MCU nor the X-men.**

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**Raven**

**280 AC, somewhere in the Kingswoods**

The rain had woken her again, rain that was pouring down relentlessly, as if the Gods had decided to drown the whole world. Critically, Raven looked up to the roof, listening to the sound of the water dripping into a bucket in the corner. If it didn't stop soon, the roofs of their small, reed-covered huts would soak through completely and their mrager belongings would be soaked and damaged - again - or to they would have to send out scouts to search for a better place to camp. Maybe a cave. If this arrangement was meant to be permanent, they really should get better building material. But supplies were hard to come by, especially out here, somewhere in nowhere, hidden away in the Kingswood. To get tar or clay to fill the gaps and wholes they would probably have to travel for a week at least, and it was always a risk. A risk nobody really wanted to take.

Walking over to the fire, the blonde girl put another log on it, determined to keep it going. There wasn't much dry wood left though, so she had to be smart about it. On the other side of the fire, her brother was stirring and slowly opening his far too blue eyes.

"Good morning," he murmured while sitting up, his hair sticking out in all directions.

"Good morning. We are still mostly dry and the night seems to have been a calm one. At least nobody sounded an alarm. But if you are up now, we could call in Erik. He is probably frozen," she updated him.

Her brother nodded, then he put one hand on his temple, sending out a silent command.  
They made an odd little family, this rag-tag group living far from any civilisation. Outwardly, they barely had anything in common - some of them had been rich, once, some had always been poor. What united them, what had brought them together, were their powers. Often these special abilities were the reason why those who had started to call themselves "mutants" had run away or why they had been outcast in the first place.

Charles, her older brother by heart if not by blood, was probably the mightiest mutant she had met so far (not that she had met that many), a mind-talker, a will-bender. He was their leader and had actually started assembling mutants around him, trying to grant them some sort of protection. In Raven's opinion, he was the kindest person in the whole world and definitely the best one as well. Even if a mutant turned out to be a burden, Charles would have never turned anyone in need away. He could be arrogant by times, an annoying know-it-all and bragging with his education, but over all he was a loyal friend who detested violence and injustice more than anything.

Sometimes his sister wondered whether he was unable to hate. Whether this feeling didn't ecist for him. When he had only been a boy and Raven had still been an infant, the Lannisters had taken everything from them. Well, from him, actually. Raven had only been a babe that her parents had left out in the woods to die, shocked by her mutation. Charles had found her, hidden her and taken care of her. He called her sister even though she had no claim to his family name. A family name that was dead now.  
Charles (and Raven, because of him) were all that was left and they had have to start lifes full of deception and lies. Their powers where their assets, Raven herself had mastered her powers of transformation years ago and the same could be said for her brother, but he denied her the pleasure of taking revenge on the Lions. He told her time after time that this was not the way, that hate only bore more hate. But it would feel so good.

A couple of minutes later, the door opened and a man came in, the hood of his coat still pulled deeply in his face. He shook himself like a dog before taking off the dripping coat and depositing it on a hook next to the entrance.

"It is so fucking cold outside, because of the shitty rain. Charles, can't you move the clouds?" he asked grumpily, the accent of one of the free cities heavy on his voice.

"Erik, no, I am not a weather wizard," the other man sighed, "hopefully we find a someone who can. One day. Now, Alex and Scott have gone hunting, we need more meat. But I dpubt they will catch anything, I mean you cant see very far. And you my friend, you should warm up and get some sleep."

"You still look quite sleepy yourself," he grinned wryly, making Charles turn beet-red and Raven roll her eyes. She really couldn't understand their dynamic - Hot and then cold, flirty and then simply in the boundaries of friendship or even distant. The girl only hoped they would sort it out eventually before they could cause a mess. Suddenly, Charles' hand flew to his forehead, his eyes widening.

"Brother, are you okay?" Raven cried, shocked to see her brother in such a state.

"Yes, don't worry sister. I have the feeling as if another conciousness is trying to reach me, or sometimes I think there are two. One is closer and feels definitely female and somehow cold. The other one is fluttering. Whoever it is must be far away but very very powerful."

"Then we should find them," Erik argued.

"No, not yet, my friend. We have to secure the camp first, build a stable environment before we can sent out parties to search for others," the leader denied.

"If you say so. But humans will always hate us, the more and the mightier we are the better. We have to keep ourselves safe, Charles!"

While he left the tent to get some hours of sleep, Raven kept watching her brother. Judging by his thoughtful expression, he was worried about Erik again. That man, the metal-lord, was an angry one, but sometimes the girl wondered whether he wasn't right. Humans would always despise her in her natural form, blue skin, yellow cat-like eyes and weird red hair. For that reason she mostly took on the appearance of a blonde, blue-eyed girl, sometimes even in their mutant-camp. Very pretty, very non-threatening. It also subdued her physical powers and agility though and Erik didn't appreciate that. He was the one who actively supported her being in her true blue appearance. Well, him and Hank, but Hank was blue-skinned as well (and furry), so that didn't quite count.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed that.**

**Just to clarify right here: I am going to include part of X-Men: First Class and a bit of other X-Men movies in the plot. There will be no RavenxErik though because I don't like them as a romantic couple. I am also very free on the backstories and adapt them as I need it.**

**Which other Xmen would you like to see in the story? Let me know!**


	8. Steven II

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! **

**I got a bit carried away and in the end the chapter became fluffier than I had intended. But well, there will be enough death and destruction coming soon enough. **

** Crossvelvet: Yes, Wanda will show up later in the story and so will Jean, though she won't be the same person as Sansa. I considered it but then decided against it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel and ASOIAF/GOT.**

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**Steven**

Brookbridge, **280 A.C. **

The sound of steel on steel clung through the courtyard as the blades kissed each other in a violent dance. There was no time to think, they had to be one with the blades, parring and coming at each other again. Finally, the taller opponent doged a hit a moment to late and the other sent the sword flying out of reach.

"Yield!" the voice was stern, though definitely also a little bit smug.

"I yield, but please have mercy on me!" the fighter pleaded, laughter lacing their voice.

Pulling off the helmet, cascades of Lannister locks fell down to her shoulders as she smiled at her trainer who in turn divested herself of the headgear. Blue eyes met blue eyes as Maryah gave Bobbi a small, affirmative smile. She looked gorgeous, wearing men's clothing same as his sister and Steve's heart thumped a bit quicker while he was watching them from across the courtyard.

"Ser Steven, why are you grinning like that?" a voice suddenly inquired curiously.

The man looked down only to find the youngest lion cub staring at him, her eyes twinkling.

"I was watching my sister and Lady Maryah train. And what about you?"

"Me too, it is better here outside than inside. When can I finally use a proper sword though?"

Steve sighed. Carol wouldn't stop asking, she was obsessed with the wish of finally fighting with real steal. She was so typical Lannister, he thought to himself. He knew that Ser Jaime had begged for it as soon as he turned seven, and so had Bobbi and, of one believed the rumours, even Cersei. Who would have thought. That Lannister girl, now so poised, once running wild. Maybe she would have turned out differently if they had let her. Less of a bitch. Less manipulative. Or if that was just who she was. And what kind of woman Bobbi would have become if they had tried to hold her into shape - meek and broken? Or rebellious and wild? Intrigrant and cunning? Well, to be fair, now she was rebellious and cunning, an actress if need be.

"You will get one when you are ready Carol," he snapped back to the present and explained as calmly as possible.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the other two walking closer. His wife was frowning in displeasure, though Steve didn't know what he could have done wrong. He would have loved to smooth out the wrinkles on her forehead and to rub the tension out of her shoulders, though he was sure she wouldn't quite appreciate it in this moment. Suddenly the knight realized that her anger was actually directed at the child next to him.

"Carol," she growled, "you were supposed to work on your reading and have your history lessons with the maester until noon. Training is only this afternoon!"

"But this is boring!" the little one complained, only a bit intimidated.

"You will be glad once it is keeping you alive, young lady!" Maryah argued back, but the girl shook her head so vigorously that the pinned up braids came loose and tumbled onto her shoulders.

"I don't see why! And I am no lady! You know that! Because you were none and Bobbi is none and even Ser Steven wasn't a Lord and -"

"That is quite enough," he interrupted her furiously, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her behind him into an empty storage room. Steve could only imagine the glowering looks his wife was giving the bystanders to keep any comments from spreading like wildfire through Brookbridge. Inside, he turned the girl to face him. She had gotten quite pale in the meantime, even she must understand that she had overstepped a line. Somebody entered behind him and closed the door, the steps lighter than a man's. Without looking he knew it was Maryah.

"Carol, what does it mean to be a lady?" his wife asked calmly. So calmly that Steve knew the next questions would be full of catches.

"Uhm, to have a real name, to be rich, to wear dresses, to behave properly, to curtsy...," she trailed off. Her eyes widened when Maryah shook her head.

"Yes, a lady has a title. But usually, a lady isn't rich. Can you imagine why Carol?"

They were waiting as the child actually started to consider.

"No. They have pretty things, right?"

"That is true. Dresses and necklaces and trinkets. Maybe a horse. But nothing influential, girl, who owns most of the world?"

Maryah sounded bitter, Steve realized, not that he could blame her.

"Men!" Carol suddenly called out, delighted that she had realized what the woman was hinting at.

"Yes Carol, and they also think they own women." She glared at Steve while giving that statement, daring him to contradict, to tell her that indeed they DID own women. He wouldn't though, he had never seen it that way. As if anyone could own Maryah! A ridiculous thought. Though he knew that his father was under the impression that he had a claim on Bobbi.

"It is true what she says," he therefore confirmed to the younger girl, "fathers, brothers, husbands, guardians - most will always see you as a property. As something to push around, to use as they please. Your father will decide who you marry, your husband might try to determine your fate for the rest of your life, if you are unlucky. That is what we are trying to prepare you for."

"Exactly," his wife took over, "you have to be able to fight to survive in this world. But not only fight with a sword. Fight with your brain as well. Fight with everything you have. Be smart. That is the point of your lessons. People want to see an accomplished woman and wife and that is what you have to show them if need be. Especially what you have to show your father if you want to stay in his good graces. And let me tell you one thing: Your father might have stepped back as hand of the king because he is furious about your brother joining the Kingsguard, but he is still one of the most powerful and richest men in Westeros. If you don't have to, you don't want him as your enemy. He is not sentimental but he took care of you because you are his blood and he feels responsible. At least that is what I think. But Carol, never forget: You are no lady by name. Not yet. You are a Hill. You a wearing a bastard name in a world that looks down on bastards. This is not ideal, but being a daughter of a Lannister is potential for much more. Much more gain but also much more pain. It can go both ways and a lot of it depends on you. Whether you learn to play the game of power. Because if you play the game of power, you win or you get crushed. Bobbi knows this, why do you think she speaks so many languages and and has such an exceptionally broad knowledge?"

After that speech, Carol was looking a bit overwhelmed and Steve wondered for a moment whether this had been too much for the girl, whether Maryah had overdone it. Not that she was wrong in her observations. Then the short blonde set her jaw, the eyes sparkling, and in that moment she looked so much like Tywin that it was almost scary.

"I won't be a toy. Teach me!"

A small smile tugged at the older woman's lips and Steven thought once more how radiant she would look with her feelings fully on display.

"Alright. Back to the maester then. I am sure he has been looking for you," Steve ordered and this time she did as she was told and ran off, braids bouncing.

Maryah turned towards him, suddenly looking very tired.

"Do you think we can do it?"

The man reached out for her hand, hoping she wouldn't pull away.

"I don't know. But Carol has potential. She could learn to act smartly and she will definitely become beautiful, that will be useful. Jaime likes her. For some reason Tywin supports her, that is probably most important. And she has us. I know no other woman who knows so much about the Game as you do."

"You are probably right with what you say about her. I just worry. And don't overestimate me. Our power is limited and so are our relations and connections. Receiving Lord Eddard and Lady Natalia and Lord James in the next few weeks will put enough preassure on us, coming from your family. They wonder why we are doing it, what our motives are. And there has been a raven, Steve, coming from Olenna Tyrell. She is asking us to host her daughter, Lady Margaery, and her brother. It is strange, I can't quite make sense of it. But they say that she is meant to wed Stannis Baratheon. Maybe she is allowed one last trip, free from his chains."

She made a face.

"Good for her and I would really like to meet Lady Margaery. Still, we don't have the capacities to host three separate parties - but we are also in no position to refuse!"

Suddenly Maryah was looking desperate, seemingly out of her depth.

"We will manage," her husband tried to calm her down, "I doubt the Tyrells will stay long. Bucky is only coming down with a small party, it should be no problem, as should the Starks. Answer Lady Tyrell and describe the situation - either they accept it or they can search for somebody else to host them."

Relief washed over her face and her shoulders relaxed slightly. Steve wondered how long this had bothered hee and why she hadn't told him. Didn't she trust him enough? What a sad thought.

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**Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!**


	9. Peggy I

**Finally a new chapter!  
I didn't really want to start another point of view but I love this chick so much that I decided to break my own rules and go for it.  
Ladies and Gentlemen, introducing Margaery Tyrell-soon-to-be-Baratheon first of her name.  
(I had to play around with the Starks, even though I love the Howard/Peggy-friendship, I had to swap it here because Howard is from Olenna's generation and Tony from Peggy's/Jaimie's/Bucky's/Nat's/Ned's etc.)  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel nor GOT.**

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**Highgarden, 280 A.C.**

**Margaery (Peggy)**

"Well my darling, you know what you have to do."

It was not a question and Margaery Tyrell, called Peggy by her family and close friends, knew it instantly. She had spent far too much time with her mother not to notice the telltale signs, even though she was fairly certain Olenna was giving them on purpose. The Lady of Highgarden had far too great a talent for masking her feelings and far too cunning a spirit to do anything without reason. Sometimes Peggy wasn't even sure whether her mother loved her for who she was, or rather for the purpose she could serve. For all the "potential", as Olenna called it. She didn't solely mean her looks or charme or elegance with it - no, it was far more than that. It was young Margaery's cleverness, quick thinking, wit, a biting tongue, much talent for acting and an iron will. She was like a young Olenna, maybe even better. Therefore, from all of her children Peggy was the one who should help to build up a legacy, a legacy like nobody had ever seen or even imagined possible. Something new and exiting. Something powerful. Something that could destroy but also save lives. A shield of sorts. A protection. For Highgarden first, of course, for other noble families second, for the smallfolk - well, they would always be the first to die, but if one could save them, why not. That was at least the general input on that matter that Peggy had received from her mother over the years. She herself disagreed, the people were her first concern.

"Just a girl's fantasy" - that was what her father said.  
"We shouldn't concern ourselves with this" - that was what her sisters said.  
"Everything comes with a price daughter and somebody has to pay it" - that was what her mother said.  
"You have a good heart my Lady, I wish there were more people like you" - that was what her servant said.  
"Dream on Peggy, this will never work" - that was what her cousin said.

"The world is full of evil and lies and pain and death and you can't hide from it; you can only face it. The question is, when you do, how do you respond? Who do you become?" - This was what her teacher had told her one day, one of the very few people who also knew about Lady Tyrell's plans for the world. Peggy had decided to live by that motto, to face everything head on, not to shy away from confrontation.

"Compromise as much as you can, if you can't, don't." It might not be the most impressive mantra, but for her, it was true.

And now, she also knew what needed to be done (aside from marrying Stannis Baratheon. Oh, how she dreaded this. The man was not only hard as a stone, mercyless and cruel, but also boring. Sometimes Peggy wondered whether it might not have been nicer to be engaged to her cousin Tony, but as soon as this obnoxious, precocious adult-child opened his mouth again, she knew why she was happy that she wasn't. Besides, being a Baratheon would grant her much more influence than being the wife of the Dornish' princess illegitimate son and brother to Doran, Oberyn and Elia Martell. The father had been some Tyrell uncle of Margaery's which had fallen into the woman's arms on a visit to Dorne.  
Now, the young woman had to somehow convince the Starshields to join their project and not to tell Tywin Lannister about it, there would be war if any of this came out. Why her mother had picked the Starshields however was easy to see.  
They were seated in the Westerlands, strategically useful. They were connected to the Lannisters, but not exactly Lannisters. They were not truly rich, so they might be swayed by money. Or, even better, if they were really as idealistic as the information said, they would be a good ally. Ser Steven was charming, he could be helpful in this regard.  
As a bonus they had two Lannister bastard girls staying with them, some of the knights escorting her would definitely look out for them. Maybe even Tony. He had probably slept with every girl in Highgarden (every girl that wasn't family, leave that to the Lannisters) at least once. It was an enigma to Margaery what they liked about him - well, he was good-looking, that was true, but this arrogance!  
He was a good fighter, but not the best, he wasn't even knighted yet but spending more time with inventing - whatever he was inventing - and hanging around with the Smiths at the armoury. He drank to much and smoked to much and whored too much and all in all just was too much of everything.

"Yes mother, I am well aware," she answered, coming back to the present, "everything is packed so we can leave tomorrow, early. I have already checked with the kitchen so that they have food prepared at the appropriate time."

"Alright. You did well, Peggy." Olenna seemed to consider saying more, but apparently decided to keep whatever it was to herself. "You may go now girl."

After a quick curtsy, Peggy walked out of the room as fast as proper. After getting down two flights of stairs, she ended in a corridor quite obviously not intended for nobility. The walls were not decorated with fine tapestries but bland grey stone with the occasional torch and small window. Without hesitation, the young woman knocked firmly against a door. Nobody answered. She tried again, with the same result. Rolling her eyes, Margaery turned around, marching back the way she had come. The palace was bustling, everywhere there were servants preparing this or that and asking for orders. It took her far longer than she would have liked to reach the training yard of the guards where some knights were actually practicing. As soon as they saw her, they ceased in their fights to bow, before lounging at each other again. Peggy didn't give them much attention, only a court nod. She was looking for somebody in particular, somebody who had the ability to disappear like a ghost when they didn't want to be found. Which, to be honest, was most of the time. Life in Highgarden was not exactly easy for people who were so...different. So special and still so formidable.  
Jealousy and fear would make comrades cruel, very cruel.

"Looking for someone?"

Only years of practice kept the young Tyrell from shrieking as the shadows suddenly spoke. Just a second later a figure was pushing themselves off the wall where they had been leaning against, undetectable and silent.

"For you, actually," Peggy answered raising an eyebrow at the woman in front of her.

She was short, even shorter than Peggy, and petite. With her olive skin and the almond-shaped eyes, she had an exotic beauty, underlined by the long, sleek black face made it impossible to make assumptions about her age - most days one would have assumed her to be in her early to mid-twenties, but then there were the days when she suddenly looked centuries old. It was the eyes, probably, eyes that had already seen too much. No matter what people called her, the woman always carried herself with a calm air of confidence, only talking if absolutely necessary. To most people, she was cold as ice, but she bestowed some little signs of affection on Peggy - from time to time. She repayed them in kind - from time to time. Over the years they had formed a sort of companionship, kept apart by social status, age difference and the mystery that surrounded the woman who was called "May" or "Lady May" on official occasions. There wasn't much known about her other than that her roots layed in an influential family in Yi Ti. She spoke several languages, Dothraki and Valyrian among them. Neither her or the two men she had arrived with at Highgarden all those years ago had ever told the Tyrells her given name, even those three close companions seemed to call each other only by family names - May, Coulson and Fury.

"Fury has been looking for you, he has been quite annoyed your dear mother has occupied so much of your time. Apparently he wants to discuss things with you," May answered unimpressed, "I am to take you on a training ride and we are to meet him and Coulson next to the river."

Peggy felt herself getting excited. What kind of plot could require such secrecy? And especially in regard of her mother, who was usually the main collaborator with Fury.

"I have your horse already saddled, so we are ready to go," May added, calling over a stable boy and ordering him to bring the two horses.

While Peggy owned a toffee brown, reliable mare, May controlled her tall, black stallion with an ease that reminded Peggy of the tales of the Dothraki. Nobody gave them a second look when they left the Yard and followed the cobble road towards the Meadows outside Highgarden. The river May had been referring to was Tiny, unimportant but for the Farmers, but a good meeting place. Two other men where already present and waiting when they arrived. While one only nodded towards both women, the other one gave a correct bow towards Peggy.

"Lady Margaery, I am glad you are here," he said, his voice friendly and calming.

Coulson was the total contrast to May and Fury, one dark and calm and brooding and the other one dark and snarky and for some reason always a bit… shady. The brown-haired man on the contrary made Margaery feel save, an illusion probably, a dangerous one, but nevertheless had he charmed her. She liked him and over the years she had (stupidly) started to trust him.

As soon as they had gotten off the horses, Fury came to the point.

"We need the Starshields, as your mother has probably told you. And keep Sand in line. Coulson and May are coming with you, they will try and help. Why I wanted to you to meet me here and what I am not going to tell your mother - I want you to pay special attention to the girls. The Hill girls, Barbara and Carol. Not only as potential brides, but as potential fighters. I have heard rumours, also concerning Maryah Starshield, and I want to know whether they are true. Around the same time you are passing through, other parties will be there, too. Barnes from the North, I think, that one-armed knight. See whether he might be an ally. Or his sister, that bastard who the second Stark son has run away with. The brother of your future sister-in-law Lyanna Stark, Lady Margaery not-so-long-Tyrell-anymore. If we want this Shield to work, we have to know everything, understood?"

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**Thank you for reading!**


	10. Natalia III

**Thank you all so much for being on this journey with me!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel neither do I own Got.**

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**Natalia**

**The Eyrie, 280 B.C.**

Natalia awoke to the sun tickling her face, like every day for the last couple of months that they had been staying at the Eyrie. Marrying Eddard Stark had caused more trouble than either of them had ever anticipated, so they had decided it might be better to lay low in the Vale until things had calmed down. Time and time again Nat thanked the Old Gods that her Stark wasn't the heir of Winterfell and that he had not been promised to another woman yet (surprisingly). If that had been the case, they would probably be in war right now. Men had fought and died for less.

Next to her, her husband apparently had woken up as well, if the shuffling was any indication, so Nat turned around to face him fully.

"Good morning Dearest," he murmured sleepily, an adorable small smile on his lips.

"Good morning," she answered tenderly. "What do you say, ready to start the day?"

She sat up and pushed the blanket back on her side, ready to get out of bed.

"Not so quickly my Lady," he growled, pulling on her hand so she fell back on top of him.

While his strong arms limited her range of movement, he began peppering her neck and cheeks with kisses, making her laugh. His wife struggled in his grip, expertedly wiggling out of his arms and scooting to the other end of the bed so he couldn't reach her.

"This is no fun!" he complained, making her laugh even harder.

"Ned, now you are pouting like a child! I am not sure whether that is sweet or whether it is utterly ridiculous!"

She bend forward again to give him a quick peck on the lips, then jumped out of bed to walk towards the window and look outside.

"What are your plans for today?"

"Well, apparently my wife is kicking me out of her bed," he grumbled, "so I shall return to my chamber to get dressed. We can break the fast then and later I will have some training fights with Robert that I will certainly loose. The same as usual, so to say. What about you?"

"Let's see, there are some ladies from the Vale currently staying here and I will probably have to entertain them again." She made a face. "One is quite pleasant, the other two are incredibly tedious. The only thing that they seem to take an interest in is embroidery. Then there are some arrangements for a new tapestry and some new furniture to be made and I am supposed to draw up some ideas and discuss them with the Lord."

Ned nodded at her approvingly. Since Jon Arryn was not married and Natalia had charmed him immediatedly, she had taken on most duties that would usually be carried out by the Lady of the Eyrie. The woman knew what people were saying behind her back, that she was power-hungry, that she wanted the Eyrie for herself and would leave Ned anytime for Jon Arryn, that she was the next Ellyn Reyne. It didn't matter, she was good at the job and would make herself useful as long as they stayed.

Later, when they were sitting in the solar, enjoying the little time they had together before going about their day, Ned looked up from the pile of letters he had recieved.

"It is from my father. He changed his mind, he only wants you to come to Winterfell. I am supposed to stay here for an undefined time, to learn more."

"This is the most ridiculous excuse I have ever heard! He only wants to separate us," Natalia answered, her voice grave, "he probably hopes you will forget me and later annul the marriage. We both know it would not even be a real offence to my family. Well, it would, but nothing money and a betrothal to one of his other bannermen can't solve. Ned, please don't make me go!"

Her green eyes were begging him, a rare occurence. Normally there would have been a challenge in them, a confirmation that she wouldn't budge. But right now, in this situation, she really wasn't sure what Ned would do. The stand he had in his family had become fragile enough, would he really risk loosing them, loosing his heritage for her?

"Natty...," he trailed off, "I don't want you to go back alone, I really don't. I am afraid of how they will treat you when I am not around. But I think you should go, that it would be unwise to provoke them any further. If you could be the daughter-in-law they wish for -"

Suddenly, Natalia became angry.

"So you want me gone then," she hissed, her voice icy, "do you already regret marrying me and not someone like Ashara Dayne?"

Ned blanched before turning as red as his wife's hair. With a few steps he was out of his seat and in front of her, his hands grabbing her small shoulders so tightly that it hurt.

"Don't you dare making this about another woman or me not wanting you! I am just as afraid of losing you, that you might find I am not worth all the trouble. I know you never really cared about the title, so that is nothing I can keep you with! And men will cluster around you again at Winterfell, just as they have always done, begging for your favour and attention. Some because they admire you for all the right reasons and some because they simply want to fuck you!"

Natalia was taken aback by this unsusual display of emotion, she had never expected Ned to be the jealous kind of man. He losened the hold he had on her before kneeling down so that his face was closer to her level. When he slowly started to carress her cheek, his fingers came away damp, though Nat had not even noticed that she had started crying.

"My sweet, I know I can't possess you, but that doesn't mean I have to like it!" he declared.

"Maybe I can go with Lyanna to Storm's End when she finally marries Robert," the young woman offered quietly. "I prefer the North, but she has asked me to come with her several times and there would be some distance between Winterfell and me. Until then, we will manage somehow."

"It might be a good solution and keep you out of my father's way. I will inform him about these plans. You could still meet Bucky at Brookbridge. By the Gods, I still have no idea what fancy struck your brother to become close friends with Sir Steven, this Lannister offspring."

Nat shrugged her shoulders. "I think he misses you and he simply likes him. I don't believe there is more to it, I love my brother but he is not the mastermind who starts playing political games."

Ned's face started to lighten up a bit. "No, he really isn't. That's what I like about him. On the other hand, you are such a mastermind. That's what I like about you."

"Husband of mine, you are not making any sense," Nat argued, "you like something about me that you wouldn't like about my brother."

"Sure, because it will keep you safe. And I trust your judgement Natty, more than anything else."

He stepped into her space again to pull her close to his chest, his wife offered no resistance. They stayed like that and her thoughts were already drifting off, when Ned ripped her out of her reverie again.

"Would you believe that Bucky could be after Maryah Starshield?"

"No I don't" Natalia answered, grinning a bit, "she is far too severe and sensible for him. If at all, he would be more after Sir Steven's sister Barbara. That would be screaming for trouble, Lannister-involvement always comes with a price, but we are talking about my roguish brother here."

"You are right my love, as always. Well, I will compose and send the letters then and let everybody know about the alteration of plans."

When Ned had left for his room, his young wife got dressed with the help of a maid. Putting on one of her wedding gifts, a pendant in the shape of a wolf-head, she wondered once more who had sent it o her and whether she would ever find out.

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**Thank you for reading, stay safe!**


	11. Maryah II

**Welcome back to Westeros, this time to Brookbridge.**  
**Soon we will see a mash-up of a lot of important characters. Even though I have mostly planned the plot already, I would still like to know who you would like to meet in this story and who you would like to see as a couple!**  
**Even though Carol is not a usual POV, I put her in here just because I really wanted to show what she thinks about Bucky. I interpreted her eye colour from all of her pictures (Captain Marvel) but I am actually still not sure what eye colour that is.**

**Disclaimer: I neither own Marvel nor Westeros, only my storyline.**

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**Brookbridge, 260 A.C.**

**Maryah**

The little castle had been bustling like a beehive for days now, preparations were being made everywhere to assure that each party could be hosted appropriatedly. As always, Steve had kept his word and done his best to help - up to the point where she had politely but firmly stopped his meddling. It was just easier when one person (who actually knew how to run a household) coordinated everything. Additionally, Bobbi had been a formidable help, trying to learn everything that could be learned. From Maryah's point of view, the Hill-girl was nearly perfectly refined and very capable to perform well as a warrior and as wife and lady. That was however the point: Bobbi would have to get married at some point and better the Starshields found someone for her (who she then could either choose or refuse) than Kevan or Tywin simply commanding a marriage. Maybe something could be arranged with the Tyrell-party... if the rumours were true about Lady Margaery, she might just the woman to ask for assistance on this matter. Also, a connection to Highgarden might bring strategical advantages.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door of her study. Before she could answer, a servant bursted in.

"My apologies Lady Maryah, but Lord James Barnes' party has been spotted. They will arrive soon," he announced breathlessly.

Deliberatedly, she nodded and stood up.

"Inform my husband and his sister," she ordered. When he had gone outside, she stepped in front of the floor length mirror to check her appearance. She was dressed in a nice dark blue dress but not overly richly, however Maryah doubted this made much of a difference since James Barnes had seen her in men's clothes and competing in a tourney before. Keep the pomp and show for Lady Tyrell, she decided. Nevertheless, the woman took the time to brush out her hair and pin it back with a comb again before going to look for Carol. As expected, she found girl with the maester dutifully but not overly enthusiastically practicing her writing.

"Carol, the Barnes' party will arrive soon, you might stop your lesson for today," she announced, smiling when Carol quickly jumped off her chair, "but as they are not here yet, you have enough time to go back to your chamber and tell your maid to help you put on the green dress in your drawer. And brush your hair!"

The girl made a face, clearly not excited about the prospect, but then nodded and ran off in the direction of her room while Maryah walked back to the courtyard, quickly but with far more dignity. She met her husband in the hallway, a happy smile on his face. Since Harrenhal, him and Barnes had stayed in contact and something akin to a friendship had formed.

"Steve, calm down, they won't be here that quickly," she said, a bit amused.

He shrugged.

"I am simply happy to see him."

'If you were just that happy to see me' Maryah thought with a bit of regret. Lately, she had been craving for more his attention, despite all the stress that she had had with the preparations. Sometimes she had even imagined - no, she could not go there, not right now.

"I know you are," she answered instead.

"Are they here yet?" Carol called out while running around a corner.

"No they are not. And lower your pace," Maryah advised her, earning an eye-roll.

"But when will they be here?"

"Soon, but it doesn't matter how often you ask!"

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**Carol**

She was excited, so excited. Not that is was boring at Brookbridge, she was training and there was the town Brooklin to visit and even other children to play with (when she wasn't busy training), but having visitors was something else. Carol still remembered vaguely that when she had been little and still living in this tiny house with the garden and the appletree below Casterly Rock, she had often seen people ride through the village. Merchants, her mother had called them, or sometimes knights or ladies or sometimes she had called them "Carol, these are no good, come in girl!" Most of the time these people had been men, dirty, with swords, but without sigils and colours. Mother had been dead the better part of three years now, but the girl still missed her. She didn't miss her father though, Carol knew Tywin Lannister was a dangerous man. A scary man. She could see it in his eyes that were not like hers. His were green like emeralds, hard, while hers were a mixture of green with grey and brown and blue. People said they were muddy, Ser Steven said they were interesting. Him and Bobbi had pretty eyes though, blue as the water in the river near Brooklin. What tales would the riders bring from the North? Would they tell of long winters full of ice and snow? Of the Wall, of wildlings and giants? Or the castle called Winterfell, the seat of the Stark family? Carol was not the most diligent student, far from it, but lately, she had tried to be better, after what Lady Maryah had told her and started to gather more knowledge. Therefore she knew that James Barnes was sworn to the wardens of the North, so maybe he could tell a tale or two. Or maybe he would not talk to her at all. The girl did not quite know how her Lord and Lady had made the aquaintance of Lord Barnes, only that it had happened at the tourney at Harrenhal (where she had not been allowed to go to) and it made her only the more curious.

Finally, she could not even say how long it had taken, she heard people call to open the gates and Lady Maryah and Ser Steven rushed into the yard, followed by Bobbi. The strange party that trotted held banners that showed a red star on a silver backdrop and was led by a tall man astride on a black stallion. When he stopped in front of Brookbridge's nobility, an insoltent grin on his face, Carol decided two things: First, this man meant trouble. Second, he was by far the most attractive one she had ever seen in the nine years of her life. And she was the golden lion's little sister, so that meant something.

Lord Barnes slid off his horse to bow in front of Lady Maryah, even though there seemed to be a hint of mockery in the chivalrous gesture that Carol did not quite understand. Did he deem her not ladylike enough? Surely nobody could be more of a lady than Lady Starshield, not even Cersei. His respects to Bobbi looked absolutely sincere and Carol was astonished when he actually acknoledged her as well. For once she was happy that her mother had taught her to curtsy when she was still little, telling her that it was the basic she should be able to do. He gave her a gentle smile before moving on to Ser Steven. The two men clasped each other on the forearms before embracing, both visibly happy to see each other.

"Good to be here at last," Lord Barnes remarked, making the other man chuckle.

"Would you care for some refreshments?"

He nodded. "Indeed I would, and I think so would my men and the horses."

Lady Maryah made a sign, signifying the servants to get the horses fed and groomed and the men shown to their quaters. Carol was ushered inside with Bobbi into a private parlour. While Lady Maryah looked a bit sceptical, her husband took Carol by the hand and pulled her with him so so that she could still hear what the Lordship and Barnes were talking about.

"Any word of my sister?" the dark haired man asked.

"There was a letter," Lady Maryah replied, "Lady Stark will likely arrive in the next three of four days."

"Lady Stark...," the other lord shook his head, "it sounds strange hearing my sister being called that."

"Do you not approve?" Bobbi asked curiously.

"Oh, I absolutely approve of Ned, I simply never thought it would happen. And the two of them have ruffled quite some feathers in the North and apparently also at the Eyrie."

When the others looked at him questionly, he shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, she practically runs the household, they compare her to the Lady of Castamere. Which is stupid, because she is much smarter than Ellyn Reyne ever was. There is a lot of jealousy involved, I believe nothing all of you are not familiar with, no offense."

Maryah smiled dryly. "No offense taken. You are right, I think hating me is one of Cersei Lannister's favourite pasttimes. However, I have to admit that she probably hates everyone who is not Jaime."

"She loves my Lord Father, in a way," Carol suddenly remarked, making the others turn towards her in surprise, "or at least she wants his approval. She is the firstborn but it is always Jaime, Jaime, Jaime. One day, she will start to hate him." The girl considered for a moment. "He doesn't really care for me either, but that is not that bad. Bastards don't have to have expectations and he did more than some people do by keeping me alive. So I believe I can't complain. Even though I still don't think he is a good man."

Lord Barnes looked at her in surprise. "You are a smart girl Carol, maybe you have more lion's blood than anyone cares to acknowledge."

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**Thank you so much for reading, stay safe!**


	12. Jaime III

**Dear Inkdrops, for now again a jump in location - back to King's Landing and to Jaime.**  
**Thank you very much for reading and for your comments!**

**As I found the story is progessing more slowly than I thought and planned, I will change certain tags.  
Also, I made the Targaryen children a bit younger and changed Rhaenys appearance for plot reasons. :)**

**To the Guest who commented on Ned/Natalia: Yes, I totally agree, they make the better couple at the moment. This was not planned in the beginning though, it is a "love that developed" while I was writing them. There will be some developments quite some time later though, but it will be more a relationship between Jaime and the Black Widow and it will also be a lot different concerning the dynamic from what she has with Ned.**

**To my other Guest who made the suggestion of a flashback: I don't really want to include Cersei as a POV but as I really like the idea, I will put something in that is a bit alike to it :).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or GOT.  
Trigger warning: Mention of torture, rape, abuse and insanity because you now...Aerys.**

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**Jaime**

**King's Landing, 280 AC.**

While he had suspected it fairly quickly after his arrival in King's Landing and taking up his work in the Kingsguard, Jaime was certain now: The king was insane. Insane and dangerous, not simply insane and unfit to rule. He liked to play with fire, literally. Jaime was a brave man, everyone including himself said so, who would not shy away from killing, but he would never torture like that. Never. He would never make someone scream or die over stolen bread. He didn't find pleasure in cruelty. But he had sworn an oath that he had to honour, so there was nothing to be done than going away inside and trying not to think about what kind of monster he was protecting. A monster that beat and raped his wife nearly to death, Jaime could hear Rhaella's cries and pleads far too often, especially when Aerys had worked himself up with wildfire. But as the Queen was not only Aery's wife but also his sister, this made it even more inexplicable to him - he could never in all ages of men imagine himself touch one of his sisters, least of all the sister he desired, in an unkind way.

The king was a monster who took a beautiful, exotic woman as his concubine to hurt and degrade his sister-wife even further. Who then tortured the poor exotic looking woman. Jaime often wondered where she was from, with her jet-black hair, high cheekbones and the almond-shaped eyes. Maybe from Yi Ti? But how did she get to King's Landing and fell into Aery's clutches? He would probably never know, she would not speak to anyone, from what Jaime had heard not even to the maids that were sent to her chamber to attend to her and make her presentable to the King. Jaime did not know her name, he wasn't sure if anyone did. He was also certain that nobody really cared. He tried to not care either, it was better that way, but still it didn't go unoticed that her face and probably rest of her body too got marred by more and more scars the longer she stayed.

Despite his proclaimed indifference, Jaime tried to get Elia out of Aerys' way, sweet, innocent Elia who loved her husband Rhaegar so dearly and had nearly died giving birth to baby Rhaenys. Rhaenys who was constantly insulted by her grandfather because of her black hair and her mother's chocolate eyes. On one of their escapes from Aerys' wrath, Jaime ushered Elia into the godswood in the Red Keep. There, under the hearttree, Elia poured out her heart. She talked more than Jaime had ever heard her talk before, about her family, her brothers Doran and Oberyn Martell and Tony Sand who was living at Highgarden. She told her about her hope to be loved by Rhaegar some day, the perfect beautiful prince and how it had hurt her to be slighted at Harrenhal. She also told Jaime about the newest gossip - how hot-headed Brandon Stark was getting married to Catelyn Tully who, according to what Cersei had told him some years ago, was as boring as a fish. Eddard and Natalia Stark had not been invited and were still considered a disgrace, but Lyanna would be there. At that moment, when the kingsguard looked at the young, heavily pregnant, charming, gentle young woman with the little girl on her arm, he found that she would have deserved better than the fate she had to endure.  
He wanted to talk to someone, wanted to lighten his burden so desperately, but there was nobody. Nobody he could trust not to call him a traitor. Not even Cersei. He hated to think so but deep down he knew it was true. Jaime was certain he loved her and she loved him, but this accusation was something that would not fit into her picture, something she would not deal with well and he couldn't quite say why.

Cersei wrote far too seldomly, she was probably busy, or, more likely, she had still not forgiven him for joining the Kingsguard. How couldn't she see that this way, he would never be with another woman but her? In contrast the letters by his other two siblings were a pleasure, a light in the dark that had befallen the Red Keep, even though writing and reading was still difficult for him. His little sister told him about the happenings in Brookbridge, about the parties that should arrive, Lord James Barnes from the North, Lady Margaery Tyrell from the Reach and Lady Natalia Stark from the Vale. The whole group that had teamed up at Harrenhal but Lyanna Stark would be there. Weirdly enough, Jaime felt as if he was missing out on a meeting among friends, which was incredibly weird and untrue. They weren't friends.

It turned out that Tyrion was meant to be engaged to Lysa Tully after Jaime's betrothal to her had not happened and he wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad about this. Tyrion could definitely have done worse but also have done better, he doubted the Tully-girl had any of the snark but also acceptance Tyrion would need in a wife. A friend was probably what he needed, but friends were difficult to find in Westeros.

Besides his growing uneasiness, training with Barristan Selmy and Arthur Dayne proved to be the best that could have happened to his skills, but he also hadn't felt that beat since he had been a squire. When he told Tyrion and Carol about it, Carol's answer included some lines in a different but well-known hand.

_Maybe it will teach you some humility, you could use some, Lannister. Your sister could too. Actually, both sisters could._

He grimaced, but unfortunatedly, Lady Starshield was probably right. Lannisters weren't exactly known for their modesty, Lady Starshield's kind-of-Lannister husband seemed to be the exemption. Still, it rubbed him the wrong way that Carol obviously had told her about what he had written, Jaime was sure that she would not spy into a little girl's correspondance, at least not in times of relative peace. Alas, one could never be sure, especially not with women.


	13. Peggy II

**Welcome back!  
I am aware that judging by the map, meeting in Brookbridge (which I have located somewhere between the Goldroad and Silverhill) is strategically not the smartest place.  
Bucky has to pass through King's Landing via the King's Road and he could have met his sister at Crossroad's Inn. However, in my canon he wants to visit Steve and so does Nat and therefore they make their way down.  
It makes more sense for Peggy though as she is on the way to Casterly Rock and there aren't so many keeps close to the Goldroad.  
**

**The GoT timelines differ according to where you look therefore I decided to go with the tourney at 279 A.C. and go from there. Rhaenys is born in early 280 A.C.**

**Disclaimer: I neither own Marvel nor GOT.**

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**Goldroad, 280 A.C.**

**Margaery (Peggy)**

The terrain was getting more hilly by the day they were riding towards the West, it was quite interesting actually, but Peggy was getting tired. Tired of the chatting of the people around her, tired of the stale food they served at the inns, even the more expensive ones, and tired of riding all day. She was more and more looking forward to Brookbridge and meeting the people there, yes, she really was curious. But most of all it would be great to have some days of rest, a soft bed and a long, hot bath. Sure, she could sit in one of the carriages like her ladies-in-waiting for now, but being shaken through all day on the bumpy Goldroad sounded even less appealing than her chaffed legs from riding. At least sitting on her white zelter she could feel the crisp air with the faint smell of wildflowers. Even though she was a lady she was not using a side saddle, she found the mens' version far more practical and comfortable. As a consequence, her long dress and coat were altered with high slits on the sides so that they would still fall over the flanks of her horse and cover everything that should be covered to protect her modesty. While the dress was made only from light-green linnen it was still expensively decorated with embroidery of roses, befitting her house and status. It had long but unusually tight sleeves as she hated the volume of the fashionable trumpet sleeves to get in the way when riding or praticing fighting. Her coat was made from soft wool with sleeves that had been taken off for the moment, creating a kind of grey vest over the dress. If anything, Margaery Tyrell always looked special, she did not blend in unless she really wanted to.  
Suddenly, she felt a shadow on her side, it was May, clothed all in black on her equally black stallion. Unless most of the other men in full plate armour, the exotic woman wore a lighter model that consisted of trousers and a long high-collared black coat over a silken shirt. Even though the sleeveless leather corset on top was embossed with metal details for further stability, it still made her more flexibel and quick. Her shoulders were only covered by the coat, but she had leather protections on her lower arms as was custom for people who were often handling bows. May thought helmets to be unnecessary when not confronting enemies on a traditional battlefield as they reduced her peripheral sight and dulled her ability to hear the tiniest sounds. Peggy could see that her hair had been intricately styled in several braids that were then connected with small ribbons, making her look even more special. The woman said nothing but her lady didn't mind, she was used to May's silence and often preferred it to the idle tattle of the other ladies.

It made her think back to the time in King's Landing that had just passed. Even though being in the capitol had been an adventure, she had been happy when they had left. Margaery was adept at politics already and had used the time to expand her connections even further, but that still did not mean she actually enjoyed what she had seen. The king was quite obviously going mad and the people's situation got worse and worse. Saying the wrong thing could get you killed in an instant, even if you were as rich and powerful as the Tyrells. They had stayed away from Court at their own private lodgings in the city which were far more peaceful than the Red Keep, and tried to avoid to have to meet Aerys. Of course, the key members of her party had still made their enquiries and gathered as much information as they could, all in their separate domains. While it had pained Peggy to see Elia in her current situation, hopeful but neglected by her husband, Tony had been so furious that it was nearly a miracle that he had not exploded and spoiled the whole visit. Realistically, Peggy knew that at the moment there was nothing she could do to help the princess, even though she would have liked to. However, it had also turned out that she had not given the Dornish lady enough credit when one night, Peggy's party had heard an urgend knock at their door and when a servant at opened, two cloaked figures had rushed in.

_"Who are you and what is it that you want?" May hissed, appearing from the shadows, holding a knife to the taller figures neck._

_The person, a man judging by the size, had simply held up his hands in surrender._

_"We are only humble visitors, my lady" the title had been laced with mocking when the intruder, definitely a man by the voice, looked May up and down who was wearing men's clothing as usual._

_The other person who was slimmer and currently seemd __very much intimidated by Fury's cold stare if her frozen posture was any indication shifted the bundle in her arms and then flipped her hood back with one hand. Strands of chocolate brown hair tumbled forward, framing a young, beautiful face._

_"Elia!" Tony, who had just come back from one of his latest expeditions to the King's Landing whorehouses, __called__, pulling her in an embrace._

_"Watch out!" the Dornish woman called, just as the bundle started to wail. "Shush little one," she urgently started to shush the baby as Tony looked at her upset, apparently scared he had just crushed his niece. After a short while, the girl calmed down again._

_"Well, __it seems you have met Princess Rhaenys now, too," Elia's companion commented dryly._

_Peggy started to study him intently. He was about her own age, __had an incredibly handsome face, cheekbones you cut your fingers on and expressive eyes that somehow gave the impression they had seen to much already but also held quite a bit of mirth. The colour of his hair was hard to determine in the lamplight, but it was light, probably blonde. Even though it had been years since she had last seen him at a tourney, the woman was fairly certain that she knew whom she was talking to._

_"Ser Jaime Lannister, I suppose," she stated._

_"You __are correct, Lady Margaery, I suppose," he answered in kind._

_Peggy motioned for May to put down the knife which she did, but she didn't gratify Lannister with an answer._

_"Your Highness, what brings you here at that time of day? It must be of some importance," Peggy started by adressing the prince's wife._

_"I wanted to see my brother and to warn you."_

_Peggy raised an eyebrow and motioned towards the parlour. "Well, then you better have a seat. Would you care for anything to drink?"_

_"Some watered down wine would be nice, thank you," Elia answered politely while taking a seat on one of the chaises._

_While a maid got the drinks, Tony settled down next to his half-sister who placed Rhaenys on his lap without further ado. Peggy nearly broke out in laughter when she saw his shocked face that slowly relaxed when he realized the baby wasn't going to explode anytime soon. Instead, the little girl only sucked her thumb, staring at the people around her. The Tyrell silently agreed with the people's judgement, she looked nothing like a Targaryen, but when her mother started talking about her husband, it was clear how helplessly in love the woman was. There was no way that little bundle was a bastard, Peggy was sure of that. Her Lannister guard stood close to the door, warily eying May who stood closer to her lady. The woman was silently amused when she noticed Fury lurking in the shadows. _

_"The king is truly mad!" Elia confirmed what they already knew, "and I doubt Rhaella will survive that much longer."_

_There was true regret in her voice, apparently she genuinely cared for the older woman._

_"She tries to do what she can to shelter Viserys, but she can't be a real mother to him, she isn't even allowed to be alone with him! There is always a Kingsguard with him, no offence Ser Jaime. I hate to say it but I am so afraid this will spoil his character. And my little Rhaenys might have to marry him!" she nearly sobbed. "I can only hope for a son to continue the line and to spare the child the prospect of marrying Viserys!"_

_Peggy considered for a moment. "Don't despair yet, my princess. There might be other options. Think about all the marriages about to happen. Brandon Stark and Catelyn Tully, their son will be heir of the North. Lyanna Stark and Robert Baratheon, their son will inherit Storm's End. My nephew Willas Tyerell will one day be Warden of the South. So you see, there are plenty of good matches. Also, no offence to the two of you -" she motioned at Elia and Tony, "but you have two brothers who are both foolish in their own ways." _

_When Tony wanted to speak up, she raised her hand, silencing him._

_"You know I am right. Oberyn is a smart, skilled man who will travel the world and do great things, but he is hot-tempered and irrational. He is a warrior and not a ruler, so we can only hope he either never becomes ruling prince of Dorne or marries a smart woman who can handle him. And who accepts his offspring. How many are there now? Three? Four? And Doran is a good ruler, a good man, but he really thinks it is a good idea to plot to marry his precious Arianne to Viserys. Of course she would become queen, but at what price? Still, if she does, it would also disqualify Rhaenys."_

_There was silence for a moment, before Elia spoke up._

_"Maybe you are right Lady Margaery, but you think you know everything. Do you know what price you are going to pay when you marry Stannis Baratheon? I am not only talking about the man, but you will have Robert Baratheon as your brother-in-law, together with Lady Lyanna."_

_"Forgive me your Highness, but you sound jealous," Peggy remarked dryly, "it doesn't do you any favours but only makes you appear sullen and bitter. Not that I can't relate, I totally understand what you are saying," she added with more empathy. "If it gives you any peace of mind, I am certain Robert Baratheon will father nearly as many bastards as Prince Oberyn despite marrying the so declared love of his life. I quite enjoy Lady Lyanna, actually, from the few interactions we have had. Also, I am fully aware what kind of man I am marrying."_

_Peggy wasn't just a pawn in this game, she was a player, and she figured Elia should slowly start to understand this._

_"Then there is only one last thing to tell you Lady Margaery," she said a bit coldly, "though you probably also know that, too. The King has taken a mistress besides the Queen."_

_Margaery nodded, not sure where this was going. _

_"I believe she is not yet but at the speed he is raping her, she will be with child soon. I don't know what they will do to her then. I don't know what they will do to her in any case. There has been talk..." Elia stopped, looking at the other lady intently, her eyes so similar to her brothers', "there has been talk that you know how to protect people. I know your mother plays it like a game, that is well-known. But I thought - no... forgive me, forget it."_

_She started to get up, but Peggy was quicker pushing her back and crouching down in front of her._

_"What is it you ask of me, Your Highness?"_

_Elia swallowed._

_"Can you save her?"_

_The Tyrell-woman shook her head. _

_"I have made my inquiries. She is guarded, more so than all of his treasures. I suppose we could get her out, but at a price I am not willing to pay. The King is mad Your Highness, we both know this, he might start a war and thousands might die! I am sorry, I thought this through and I really see no option."_

_Peggy didn't know what made her be honest with the dark-haired lady, it was treason what they were discussing, but here they were. Surprisingly, the princess only nodded, getting up and taking back her child._

_"I don't know whether to hate or to admire you Lady Margaery. Maybe I do both," she said in parting, "either way, you are impressive. But I don't know whether you are a blessing or a curse to this world."_

Her words had held something akin to a prophecy when she had disappeared into the night, her guard close to her after throwing her a look over his shoulder that she could not figure out. When they had been gone, she had asked Fury whether there was really no chance to rescue that woman. He had only shook his head.

Now, hundreds of miles away, the thoughts of her would still not let her alone.

* * *

**May's armour is inspired by Tauriel's in "The Hobbit" but totally in black. The hairstyle is inspired by Ming Na Wen's in "The Mandalorian".  
Also, drinking alcohol while being pregnant is bad for the child, but Elia doesn't know that.**


End file.
